While Our Blood's Still Young
by Ezra.A.Bradley
Summary: Teenage father Blaine Anderson knew that he would have to put all his big dreams on hold to have his son. Now, with everyone around him telling him he can't achieve them with a toddler in tow, Blaine starts to wonder if they're right. Can a certain optimistic, unfailingly brave blue eyed boy turn it all around for him? Mpreg, Seblaine, Klaine
1. Chapter 1

***THINGS TO KNOW BEFORE READING:*******

**A LOT of mentions of Mpreg and past Mpreg. There. I said it; you've been warned. If that's something you find gross or you're not interested in reading, then for God's sake, don't read it. I'm really not interested in non-constructive, hateful reviews.**

**In this story…**

**- Male pregnancy is rare but not unheard of. Obviously, it's not a real thing that happens in reality, so I won't try to make up specific technicalities of the process, but I'm sure you can use your imagination. In this story, it's more or less accepted as normal. Suffice it say that the fact that Blaine's pregnancy was a **_**teen**_** pregnancy was a lot more scandalous than the fact that it was a **_**male**_** pregnancy.**

**- Same-sex marriage is legal in Ohio.**

**- Blaine never went to public school; he started at Dalton his freshman year. No Sadie Hawkins debacle. **

**- Blaine and Kurt are in the same grade in this story and Sebastian is two grades older than them. **

**- Kurt doesn't start at Dalton until his senior year, as you will see.**

**- The character of Kurt is mostly canon, but a bit more edgy and a bit more alternative in terms of music & movie preferences (basically my preferences, sorry ;P)**

**- Drop me a review with any questions!**

**I think that's it! I hope you enjoy!**

1

Blaine studied his reflection in his bathroom mirror. He looked good, he supposed. His black curls were lightly gelled (he was planning on adding more later) and his face was clean-shaven. His old Dalton blazer from two years ago still fit for the most part, although now it was a bit tight through the shoulders. He was the picture of a normal, carefree seventeen-year-old boy, he thought, and anyone who didn't know his story would have thought he was.

He smiled half-heartedly at the kid looking back at him in the mirror. It had been a long time since he'd looked this put-together.

Okay, so maybe a party with his old friends in the dorm at Dalton wasn't really a huge occasion to get gussied up for, but when a kid gets out as seldom as Blaine did, he takes any excuse he can find to try to look and feel like a normal teenager. Even if it's only for a little while.

Still, he was glad his friends had invited him back for the annual Warblers' Valentine's Day party. Their new lead soloist, Nick, apparently had a family emergency and needed to go home for the weekend, so they wanted Blaine to fill in. Wes had called him to beg him.

"Come on, dude. We need you tonight. We've been working on this arrangement forever and everyone's so in sync with their parts that moving anyone else to the lead would throw us all off," his best friend has said over the phone earlier that afternoon.

"Wes," Blaine had countered, "any one of you guys could rock a lead solo. Why would you ask _me_? I don't even go there. I haven't for almost two years."

"Blaine, once a Warbler always a Warbler, right?"

Blaine smiled a little into the phone. "Right," he conceded.

"Right. So, we put it to a vote. All the guys decided we would love for you come back and sing with us tonight. This would have been your senior year Valentine's Party, dude. We don't want you to miss out on it."

Blaine sighed. "You guys are way too nice to me."

"You're our friend. We just want you to be happy. And we know you'd be way happier signing Katy Perry with us on a Friday night than stewing away yet another weekend alone in the Anderson Estate."

Blaine's eyebrows shot up in intrigue. "Katy Perry?"

Wes laughed. "I knew that detail would catch your interest."

"Well played, Montgomery. Fine. Looks like you've got yourself a lead."

"Awesome! You can stay the night in David's and my room. If you don't mind the floor…"

"That's fine, Wes. I'll get over there as soon as I can get away."

Now, at six pm, Blaine smiled to himself again in front of his mirror. He tightened the old blue and red striped tie into place and an immediate sense of pride come over him. It felt good to be going back. After dropping his grandfather's antique pocket watch into his blazer's breast pocket (he carried the device practically everywhere), he set about straightening his shirt collar to perfection.

"Blaine Carter!" his father's voice bellowed from downstairs.

Blaine winced at his father's use of his middle name. Over the years, the sound of his full name being yelled had become like a whip across his back. He knew that when he heard it, Cooper Anderson Sr. meant business.

He immediately left the bathroom, knowing from tons of experience that when his father called, especially in that tone, that he'd better come running. Before he'd even reached the top of the staircase, though, the earsplitting wail he was dreading rang out. Blaine gasped in slight panic when he realized the sound was coming from his father's office at the bottom of the stairs.

"Shit, " he murmured under his breath, already anticipating what had happened before he saw it.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he turned into the mahogany office and was met with pretty much the sight he'd been expecting. His father stood in the middle of the room, stern expression unwavering. And clutched in his right arm, the little curly-haired toddler was shrieking like there was no tomorrow. Blaine's eyes wandered to his father's other hand, where he saw that he was holding a rather soggy-looking yellow legal pad.

"Care to explain how this happened?" Mr. Anderson asked his son, raising his voice in order to be heard over the squirming child's incessant cries. "I just walked in here looking for information on the Johnson case and I found him chewing on my notes."

"Sorry, Dad," Blaine answered, now crossing the room and holding out his arms to take the hysteric one and half-year-old. "He was napping in the living room when I went upstairs."

The baby did not calm once he was transferred into Blaine's arms. He merely spun his curly head around and started screaming louder and making grabby hands toward the drool-soaked legal pad in Mr. Anderson's hand.

"Oliver Anderson Smythe," Blaine chastised, bouncing the little boy in his arms in an attempt to distract him from the confiscated plaything. He winced when the squirming baby just wailed louder directly into his ear. He figured that after living this long with a baby in the house, he would have gotten used to the deafening screams, but they still never failed to irritate the crap out of him. Especially when he was already stressing over his first performance in two years. "Shh, Ollie. You're not supposed to play in here, Buddy." Blaine turned his attention back to his dad. "Did he ruin anything important?"

Mr. Anderson rolled his eyes dramatically. "All my notes and papers are important, Blaine. I keep vital information about my clients in here. That's why I asked you to keep him out of my office."

"I know, Dad. I'm sorry. It's just been getting hard to keep up with him now that he's learned to climb over the baby gates."

"Paaaay-pah!" the distraught toddler whined, still reaching for the pad. "Pay-pah, Dada!"

"No, Ollie. We don't play with Grandpa's papers."

Another distressed wail.

Mr. Anderson crossed his arms. "You know, he always stops crying immediately whenever Sebastian holds him," he remarked coolly.

Blaine had to bite his tongue to keep from rattling off a snarky remark back at him. This was a practice he'd become quite used to with his father, especially over the past two years. Blaine loved his dad, he really did, but his constant criticism and relentless judgment of every area of his life made him, well, difficult to live with.

"Yeah, well, how often do you actually ever see Seb hold him, Dad? He only sees him every two weeks, if that." Blaine waited until he turned away from the man to roll his eyes.

It was the worst whenever his father tried to make Sebastian out to be some kind of saint. Ever since Ollie was born, Mr. Anderson had become so sickeningly 'Team-Sebastian' that it seemed borderline psychotic. Never mind the fact that this was the same cocky, immature, promiscuous guy who'd knocked up his youngest son at fifteen. Mr. Anderson still seemed to want nothing more than to see Blaine finally give in and marry him, actual feelings toward the guy be damned.

Blaine proceeded to carry his sobbing son back across the formal foyer to the toy-littered living room. "Speaking of which," he added over his shoulder, "your _ideal_ son-in-law was supposed to be here over an hour ago to pick him up for the weekend."

Blaine heard his father move to follow him. "Well, what's keeping him?"

"I don't know, Dad," he replied incredulously, now stepping carefully over the plastic baby gate into the living room. "You think he ever bothers to tell me why he does anything?" He lowered himself down onto the carpeted floor and settled Ollie into his lap, bouncing him on his knee.

Blaine looked around at what toys were lying within his reach while he struggled to maintain his grip on the struggling toddler. "Hold still, Buddy. You're gonna wrinkle Daddy's blazer." He reached out and grabbed the stuffed animal to his right.

Oliver immediately quieted when Blaine shook his favorite blue panda in front of him. The little boy seemed to forget all about the delicious legal pad he'd been chewing on and reached out his chubby hands for the stuffed panda. Blaine breathed a sigh of relief when his son took the bait and his enormous, adorable smile overtook his round face once again.

A matching smile grew over Blaine's own face. He always thought that the joy he felt when he saw his son smile made all his crying worth it.

Oliver immediately brought the animal to his mouth and started sucking on its leg, finally ceasing his squirming. He rested his curly head peacefully on his father's chest. Blaine squeezed the little boy a bit tighter to himself. He loved how cuddly his son could be when he wasn't exercising his apparently well-endowed vocal cords.

Then Mr. Anderson spoke again.

"Well you need to make a better effort to communicate with him, Blaine. You two are going to be together for the rest of your lives."

Blaine's head snapped over to where his father stood in the doorway of the room. "We are _not_ together," he said icily.

The elder Anderson shrugged. "For now," he said, his mouth morphing into a knowing smirk.

Blaine let out an exasperated sigh. "Unbelievable," he muttered.

"Anyway," his dad segued, sensing he was close to setting off yet another verbal landmine with his youngest boy and deciding he didn't have the energy to deal with it, "your mother and I are about to head to the benefit. Are you two going to be alright until Sebastian gets here?"

"Yes, Dad," Blaine answered tightly, really trying not to explode into a tirade about how he _obviously_ knew how to care for his own son by himself, since he'd been doing it for the past year and a half.

He honestly didn't mind that too much, though. The taking care of Oliver mostly by himself, that is. He really did believe that Ollie should be his responsibility when he was home and not his parents'. Plus, he already knew he didn't want his parents' overbearing, judgmental parenting style influencing Ollie too much. He just wished that they would show some acknowledgement of how hard he worked to care for his son. How he had practically never left the house since he brought his tiny son home from the hospital, no matter how much normal teenage activity he missed out on. It always just seemed like no matter how much of his youth he sacrificed, it wasn't enough for them. Like they always wanted more out of him. Especially his dad.

"We'll be fine," he added weakly, deciding to just humor his father until he left and got out of his hair for the night.

"Blaine, dear?" his mother's melodic voice jingled from the hallway. "Did you pack Oliver's baby bag?" The petite Filipino woman appeared next to her tall, broad-shouldered husband in the doorway to the living room. She was in the middle of putting in a glittery, dangling diamond earring as she looked at Blaine expectantly.

"Yeah, Mom. It's in the kitchen."

She nodded. "Where in the heck is Prince Charming anyway?" she said, a sarcastic smile pulling at her lips.

Blaine couldn't help but smile as well. He had never appreciated his mother's sense of humor more than in the past two years. Sometimes her ability to sit back and laugh at life was just what he needed to be able to look at the bright side of his significantly harder-than-it-should-have-been life.

He was also eternally grateful that she wasn't fooled by Sebastian's cheesy parent-pleasing guise. She saw how much unnecessary drama and pain he put Blaine through with his selfish, irresponsible, and sometimes reckless actions, and although she would rather they be together for Oliver's sake, she seemed to understand that he couldn't make Blaine happy. Blaine knew that if it weren't for her convincing his dad, he would have been forced to go through with marrying Sebastian long ago. And he loved her for saving him.

"I have no idea," Blaine answered. "He's not answering his phone. He'd better get here soon, though. I told the guys I'd be at Dalton in time to run through the performance for the party before we go on."

Mr. Anderson cut Blaine off with a sudden cough, in his classic, passive-aggressive style. The man continued to cough lightly, trying to pass the interruption off as clearing his throat.

"I'm going to go start the car, Maria," he said stiffly. Then he turned and headed through the spacious kitchen toward the garage.

Mrs. Anderson just shook her head.

Blaine frowned. "He still _really_ doesn't like me performing, does he?"

"Don't worry about him, sweetheart," his mother reassured him. "The Warblers have been your friends for four years now, and if performing with them is what makes you happy, then you should do it. You have a real gift, baby."

Blaine smiled at his mother's encouragement. "Thanks, Mom."

"You're welcome. Now bring me that baby so I can say goodbye!"

Blaine clutched Oliver to his side and stood, hoisting the OshKosh-clad boy up so he was settled on his hip. "Let's tell Grandma bye-bye!" he said, walking over toward his mother.

"Gam-ma!" Oliver squealed excitedly when the woman reached out to take him in her arms for a tight hug.

"Oh my sweet boy!" she exclaimed as she squeezed her grandson. "What is Grandma supposed to do for a whole weekend while you go play with Papa? Your daddy's nowhere near as much fun as you!"

"Hey, I resent that," Blaine pouted. "Ollie, say bye-bye to Grandma so she can go spend exorbitant amounts of money on some charity she knows nothing about."

His mother faked an offended look. "I resent _that_! I know all about the Heller Foundation for Literacy. Or for medical research. Or was it Siberian Tigers? Oh whatever. Your father's making me go." She stuck her tongue out at her son.

Blaine laughed.

"Oooh!" Ollie proclaimed, getting his dad and grandma's attention. The toddler then proceeded to stick his little tongue out at Blaine like he'd just witnessed.

Blaine gasped. "Mom! Look what you've just started!" He tried and failed to sound stern, dissolving into a fit of laughter at his son's new trick.

Mrs. Anderson joined in her son's laughter immediately. "He's like a sponge!" she said. "I really don't know he picks these things up so quickly."

Blaine just shrugged. "I make smart babies."

His mother chuckled. "Well, please, no more for a while, okay?"

He snorted a laugh. "Trust me, you do not have to worry about that any time soon."

She smiled at her youngest son although just a hint of sadness was present in her eyes. Blaine could always see it there when she looked at him. He knew what she was thinking: _Oh my poor baby boy- still so young, but already so old._ He hoped his own eyes didn't betray that same sadness.

"Alright, well I'd better get going before your dad starts laying on the horn." She reached a hand out to tickle Oliver's side lightly. The little boy squealed with delight, his huge smile taking over his face, ear to ear. "Bye-bye my love," she said, ceasing her tickling and planting a kiss in her grandson's curly dark hair. "And you have fun tonight, Blaine. I want you to let loose a little, okay? Don't spend the whole party hunched in a corner missing your baby. You're a teenager and tonight I want you to act like it."

Blaine laughed softly, stepping forward to take Oliver back from her and settling him back against his hip as per usual. "Thanks, Mom. I'll try. And I'll see you tomorrow when I get back." He turned to Ollie. "Wave to Grandma," he instructed the boy, waving to his mother in demonstration as she moved toward the garage door.

Ollie lifted his chubby hand and waved it at her, still smiling wide. "Buh-bye!" he chimed happily.

Mrs. Anderson blew both her boys a kiss before she slipped out the door.

Twenty minutes and three unanswered texts to Sebastian later found Blaine pacing the kitchen while Ollie sat in his highchair. The toddler was happily nibbling on a cinnamon graham cracker, completely oblivious to his father's seething anger.

Blaine reached into his pants pocket to take out his iPhone once again and

let out an exasperated grumble when he saw the time flashing on the screen. He was supposed to have been at Dalton forty minutes ago.

With another eye roll and mumbled profanities under his breath, Blaine typed out an apologetic text to Wes and then angrily pulled up Sebastian's number and hit the "Call" button.

Voicemail.

"Figures," Blaine said, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he listened to the familiar sound Sebastian's recorded message. At the beep, Blaine spoke. "It's me. Where are you? You'd better be on your way, because I have got to go like _now_ or I'm going to miss the kick-off performance for the party. I need you to help me out here."

He paused, sighing and leaning on the granite countertop. He couldn't help but feel pretty much pathetic in that moment. There he was, a seventeen-year-old father out of wedlock, whining to his baby-daddy on the phone like one of those MTV specials.

Sometimes, since becoming a father, he couldn't help but feel pretty pathetic. But then it would always become clear to him, as it was now, that he didn't regret Ollie. He could never regret Ollie. He regretted Sebastian. He was only pathetic for ever having fallen for Sebastian Smythe.

"Just please get here soon. Your son misses you. Bye," he concluded into the phone. He tapped the "End Call" button a bit too forcefully and let his head hang back as he took deep, calming breaths. This was not the type of drama he needed a mere hour and a half before his first performance in so long.

Blaine had always adored music and performing. He'd known for sure that he wanted to make music his future since he joined the Warblers his freshman year at Dalton and then been promoted all the way to being their front man by his sophomore. The pure joy he got from singing and playing music had only been paralleled one other time in his life. That was on a hot August day, the day that would have been the first day of his junior year at Dalton, eighteen months prior when a nurse had handed him his newborn son after twenty-one hours of painful, complicated labor.

For the past few months, the floor of his bedroom had been littered with various pamphlets from Music Education departments of colleges across the country. He wanted to teach music, and he wanted to do it far, far away from Westerville, Ohio. He needed to get himself and Ollie out of his parents' house and he needed to start his own life.

Too bad it would most likely never happen. Not when his father wouldn't support it. Not when the set plan was still that he was supposed to marry Sebastian and stay in Westerville so Sebastian could support him by working for Mr. Anderson in his law firm.

Blaine continued his pacing, growing more and more agitated with every step. "Where are you? Where are you? C'mon Sebastian you stupid son of a…" he bit his tongue, barely catching the profanity on his lips. Like his mother had said, Ollie was like a word-sponge lately, and Blaine certainly did not need him picking up any new phrases. God knew he was probably already learning plenty from his other father.

"Where is your Papa?" he asked his son.

Ollie just tilted his head in curiosity, a mess of graham cracker crumbs hanging from his lips.

_Ding-Dong!_

"Finally!" Blaine exclaimed, making an immediate beeline for the front entryway.

He pulled open the heavy oak front door to find his ex standing there with his seemingly permanent, condescending smirk firmly in place. Blaine vaguely remembered a time when he thought that smirk was mysterious and sexy. Now he just kind of wanted to punch it. An ice-cold chill flooded into the room around Sebastian, and Blaine shivered. He wasn't sure if was from the cold February air or from the icy aura his ex seemed to exude.

"Where have you been?!"

The smirk just grew more pronounced. "It's nice to see you too, Bee."

"Don't call me Bee. Come in while I put his coat on." Blaine turned and headed to the coat closet, leaving the front door wide open for Sebastian.

The tall, lithe college sophomore stepped inside. "You love it when I call you Bee." He watched Blaine retrieve the tiny, blue puff jacket out of the closet and allowed his eyes to wander down the younger boy's body, pausing his evaluation at how the now snug Dalton pants hugged his ex's muscular legs in all the right places. Sebastian still marveled at how much Blaine was filling out this year. "Oh, Blaine, feeling nostalgic, Sweetheart? You didn't need to dress up for me."

Blaine just rolled his eyes, not dignifying the comment with an answer, and disappeared down the hall to get Oliver.

"But I'm glad you did!" Sebastian yelled after him, chuckling to himself in his usual self-satisfied way.

Blaine reappeared a moment later with an armful of squirming, blue puff jacket and the baby bag slung over his shoulder.

"It's the Jolly Ollie Man!" Sebastian exclaimed, smiling hugely and approaching Blaine with his arms outstretched.

Oliver turned in Blaine's arms to look at the source of the sound. His green eyes immediately went huge with excitement when he saw his other father. "Papaaa!" the little boy squealed, reaching his arms back at Sebastian. "Dada, it Papa!" he said to Blaine.

Blaine managed a weak smile for his son's sake. "I know, Buddy. You ready to go with Papa?"

Oliver was now making grabby hands vehemently in Sebastian's direction. The taller boy swooped in and swiped the toddler out of Blaine's arms. Then he lifted him over his head and zoomed the boy around the room like an airplane for a few moments before planting him firmly on his shoulders, much to his giggling son's delight.

Blaine couldn't help the immediate wave of sadness that came over him the second the boy left his arms. It was becoming a familiar sensation whenever Sebastian picked him up for a weekend.

"Can I talk to you for a minute while we put him in the car?" Blaine asked.

Intrigued, Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "Sure thing."

After shrugging on his own winter coat, Blaine led the way out the door into the dark February chill and down the Anderson's long driveway. He got to Sebastian's black Porsche Cayenne Turbo S, opened the backseat, placed the baby bag inside, and then turned to Sebastian. "Why do you keep doing this? You said you would be here almost two hours ago."

Sebastian looked taken aback for moment. "Chill, will you? I had a test in my last class and it ran over time. Then I hit traffic on I-71. Friday rush hour. I would have called, but you wouldn't want me on the phone while driving, would you?" He asked in a patronizing tone. Then he moved past Blaine and brought Oliver down from his shoulders. He placed him in the car seat and then straightened back up. "What's the big deal?"

Blaine gaped at him. "It's the Warblers' party tonight. The guys asked me to sing with them and I have to be there, like, now! Seb, I told you about this! You know what a big deal this party is every year and I really don't want to let the guys down. Plus I'll take any excuse I can get to practice my music."

Sebastian rolled his eyes. "You're still hung up on that whole music-as-a-career thing?"

Blaine scoffed. "If by being 'hung up on' it you mean being committed to making it happen, then yes."

The other boy scoffed. "Blaine, seriously, open your eyes. You can't go to music school, okay? Your life is here with Oliver. You can't just up and move away." He crossed his arms firmly over his chest.

"I'd take Ollie with me," Blaine replied simply.

Sebastian's eyes immediately grew wide. "Oh, would you now?"

"Yes."

Sebastian nodded slowly before letting out a slow, eerily sardonic chuckle. "And just how exactly would you pay for your useless little Music Education degree, hmm? And for a place to live? How are you possibly going to give Ollie everything he needs? Child support from _me_ after you take my son away from me? I wouldn't count on that."

Blaine fixed his eyes on the ground.

Sebastian took another step toward him. "You're dreaming Blaine. And you really need to cut it out. Dreams are for kids, and you need to grow the hell up and face the facts. The only place you're going is down to Columbus with me. You're going to OSU part-time for something _practical_, and Oliver is going to be raised by _both_ of his parents, okay?"

The shorter boy's eyes snapped up. "Oh, because you contribute _so_ much to raising him now! Which one of us was it who dropped out of Dalton to 'raise' him, Sebastian? Which one of us knows all his favorite books by heart and how he likes his bananas cut? I have completely dedicated my life to that boy and you just drive up here every other weekend, if you _feel_ like it, and take him away to your parents who I'm sure spend a lot more energy caring for him than you do."

Sebastian let out an exaggerated sigh and threw his head back in exasperation. "What do you want from me, Blaine?! I'm in college, for God's sake! I have classes and homework and obligations. Do you know what a sacrifice it is for me to make it up here at all during the semester?"

Blaine just shook his head. He could not believe his ears. He could not believe Sebastian had the nerve to show up at his house and tell _him_ about sacrifice. Another tense, silent moment passed before he responded, voice even and calm, but still dripping with bitterness. "Yeah, Seb. It must quite the _freaking _sacrifice to stop partying and spend three days every other week with your son. Poor you."

Blaine then turned to the car and leaned inside, setting about strapping Oliver into his seat. "Nice hickey on your neck, by the way. I'm glad to see you really do have your priorities in place down there."

Sebastian moved his hand up to the purple spot just under his left ear, evidence of last night's hook-up. Then he was silent for minute, knowing he'd probably taken it too far. Sometimes he forgot how damn sensitive Blaine seemed to become since having the baby. He sighed in concession before he spoke again. "Alright, Bee, you're right. You've sacrificed more than I have at this point," he finally said, trying his best to sound sympathetic. "But you don't need to worry. Everything I'm doing, I'm doing to make our lives better. Yours and mine and Oliver's. So I'm not going anywhere, okay?"

The younger boy rolled his eyes as he listened, fastening the straps over his boy's tiny shoulders. He couldn't fathom why Sebastian would think that him 'not going anywhere' was a good thing when really, it was pretty much the bane of Blaine's existence lately.

"I'm majoring in Pre-Law, then I'm going to go to Law school, and then your dad will hire me at his firm and with that, along with my trust fund, we'll be set for life. We can settle down here in Westerville and then, who knows?"

Blaine froze at the feeling of a cold hand suddenly tracing down his side and over his hip as he remained leant over the car seat.

Sebastian was practically whispering when he moved in even closer. "Maybe then you and I can work on popping out a few more as cute as this one," he said, daring a squeeze on Blaine's hipbone. He'd always had a thing for the younger boy's hips, even post-baby.

Blaine immediately jumped backwards away from the car. "Take your hands off of me, Sebastian," he demanded. "Do you think you could at least _try_ not to sexually assault me in front of the baby? And why would I have any interest in getting back together with you when I can clearly see the evidence that you are incapable of keeping it in your pants?" He motioned again to Sebastian's soiled neck.

"Oh, don't be so damn dramatic," Sebastian said, old smirk back in place. "You know I never cheated on you once when were together. It could be like that again if you'd just settle down and get real." He took another step toward the smaller boy and Blaine backed into the open car door, trapped. "Don't you miss me, Bee?"

"I asked you not to call me that, and no, I don't miss you. Not like that."

"Blaine, I don't know why you're fighting this so hard." Sebastian braced his arm against the open car door, effectively cornering Blaine more. "You know it's going to happen eventually. I mean, if your dad has anything to say about it, the wedding will probably be this summer so we can get a place together down in Columbus before school next fall. And, let's be honest, we both know that what Papa Anderson says, goes." His other hand moved back to the shorter boy's waist and was suddenly resting against the soft wool of Blaine's coat. "Would it really be _that_ terrible?"

"Get off of me!" Blaine demanded again, pushing Sebastian's intrusive hand away and straightening back up. "First of all, I don't care what my dad says, Sebastian. I am not marrying you because in case you don't remember, we absolutely _sucked_ together and I think that a marriage is something that should probably be something more than simply 'not terrible'. _And_, as far as 'popping out a few more' goes, the only thing that'll be doing any popping around here is my fist into your face if you don't back off of me right now!"

"No, Dada!"

Blaine's heart immediately sank at the sound of the tiny, pleading voice. Then he looked over to see Oliver staring at them in wide-eyed fear. He couldn't believe he let himself get so worked up in front of him. He always promised himself he would never get like that around his son. But it just happened. Just five minutes with Sebastian had turned into an argument. It was further proof, Blaine thought, that he and Sebastian were, and always would be, a complete train wreck together.

"Oh my God," he breathed. "I'm so sorry, Buddy."

"It's alright, Ollie," Sebastian said, moving to run a reassuring hand through the boy's curls. "Everything's just fine." He turned to face Blaine again before continuing. His green eyes - so similar to Oliver's but tainted with that ever-present glint of menace - narrowed on the younger boy as he spoke. "Daddy didn't mean it. I'm sure he'll come around and be a lot nicer to Papa soon."

Blaine wanted so badly to sneer at Sebastian or to make some kind of comeback to put him back in his place, but he could feel Oliver's scared eyes still glued to him. So he just smiled. Blaine was very good at smiling when there was nothing else to be done.

Looking significantly more satisfied, Sebastian retracted his hand from Oliver's hair. "We'd better get going, huh Bud? Daddy has to go to his silly party and Grand-père wants to get to the lake house tonight. Voulez-vous aller au lac avec Grand-père et moi?"

Oliver's eyes lit up at the question. "Oui!" he squeaked enthusiastically.

Oliver had been learning French right along with English from Sebastian and his parents, who were all born in France. Blaine almost hated to say how impressed he was with how well the toddler picked it up. Although he supposed he shouldn't be surprised. Ollie had reached every milestone early, especially the cognitive development markers. It made sense that he should be picking up languages so fast, but it still made Blaine feel left out in some way. Like Sebastian had this secret with Oliver that he wasn't allowed in on.

"You're taking him to the lake house this weekend?" he asked, not having been informed of this previously.

"Yeah," Sebastian replied coolly. "Just Dad and Ollie and me. A getaway for the Smythe men. Why? You wanna come?" he asked with that trademark mischievous glint in his eye.

"No," Blaine answered immediately, effectively wiping the stupid smirk off Sebastian's face. "I'm just wondering why you didn't let me know earlier. Isn't it too cold in Port Clinton this time of year?"

"Blaine, you _do_ remember that the Smythe lake house has an indoor basketball court, tennis court, pool, arcade, and home theater, right?"

Blaine rolled his eyes. Of course, he walked right into that one. If the Smythes loved to talk about one thing, it was money and what they bought with it. "Okay fine. But careful with the swimming, okay? He's not going to start lessons until the summer. Oh! I didn't pack him his swimsuit or floaties. I'll run in and grab them…"

"Jesus, Blaine. Settle down, will you?" Sebastian said. "We have swimsuits and floaties for him. And I think I can handle him in the pool, thank you very much. I'm not going to drown our son."

"I'm not saying you would I'm just saying you tend to be a little rough or careless sometimes…"

"What is that supposed to mean? You really think I would hurt him?"

"No, God, Sebastian you're putting words in my mouth. I know you're great with him and he obviously loves you. So just forget it, okay? Can we try not to get into it _again_ in front of him?"

Sebastian scoffed. "Okay then. Is that all? I really don't need to stand here and take this bullshit criticism from you anymore."

"Oh my God. I'm not criticizing you! I'm just saying be careful."

"Whatever. Can we go now?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Blaine conceded, even though now he suddenly found himself wracking his brain for reasons to postpone his son leaving for the whole weekend with his insufferable ex, party and performance be damned.

"Alright. Then let's get a move on! Prêt à partir, Ollie?"

"Oui!"

Blaine leaned into the backseat one more time to kiss Ollie's hair. "Bye-bye, Ollie-Golly. I'll miss you."

Oliver giggled and wrinkled his little nose up at Blaine.

He smiled a genuine smile. "Be good for Papa and Grand-père. I love you."

"Luh you!"

With one more hair ruffle and two more kisses to his son's cheeks, Blaine finally pulled out of the seat and closed the door.

He turned to Sebastian. "Take care of my baby."

"Well, I'll sure try, but apparently I can get pretty careless…"

Blaine resisted another eye roll. "Just text me to let me know you get there okay. And I want to talk to him…"

"Before bed every night. Yes, I know, Blaine. We've been through this drill literally a hundred times."

Blaine put his hands up in surrender. "Alright. I'll just see you Sunday when you drop him back off, okay?"

"Sunday it is," Sebastian said, not bothering to try to hide the irritation in his voice. He turned his back and headed around to the driver's seat. "Will you have run out of things to bitch at me about by then?" he added over his shoulder.

Blaine threw his head back in exasperation and squeezed his hands into tight fists, barely resisting the urge to run into the garage and get a snow shovel to bash Sebastian in the head with. "I guess only time will tell," he said tightly. "Have a nice weekend."

Sebastian gave him one more stupid smirk over the top of the car. "You too. Tell all the guys I say hello. And have a blast at your useless performance." And with that, he climbed into the Porsche and backed out of the driveway so fast that the tires squealed, not leaving enough time for Blaine to wave goodbye to Ollie again and certainly not leaving enough time for Sebastian to have looked for oncoming traffic well enough.

Blaine stood in open-mouthed amazement for a moment, feeling too angry to move right away. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone before he turned back to the house.

_When my child suffers whiplash from your idiotic driving stunts, consider yourself a dead man. – Blaine_

He sighed and trudged back up to the house. Interacting with Sebastian always left him frustrated and honestly kind of depressed. This was the other father of his baby, the guy he would be inextricably tied to for the rest of his life whether he liked it or not. Why couldn't they just get along for five minutes for Ollie's sake?

And everything always felt ten times worse when he thought about the fact that he had loved Sebastian once. At least, he thought he did. Looking back now, it was easy for Blaine to see that they had both just gotten caught up in a treacherous mix of teenage attraction and too many hormones, but at the time, he had thought it was love. And now that it wasn't, it broke Blaine's heart.

Because more than anything else in the world, more than to teach music or to perform on Broadway, Blaine wanted to be in love for real. He wanted someone he could just be himself with and who could make him feel like he was _living_ his life again rather than just going through the motions. He wanted to be swept off his feet and carried far, far away by a guy who would treat him and Ollie right and who would never, ever laugh at his dreams.

But none of that seemed too likely to come across in Westerville, Ohio.

**Yes? No?** **Do you want more?** **Should I bother continuing this? Let me know!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow! Such a positive response! Thank you so much to all who followed, favorited, and especially reviewed. It's wonderful to have your feedback.**

2

Another twenty minutes later, Blaine finally pulled his white Subaru Outback into the Dalton guest parking lot. His anger had pretty much dissipated into just his usual annoyance with his ex. He knew that Sebastian loved their son, but he just didn't understand why he had to be such a goddamn douchebag sometimes. He was really trying not to let the interaction bother him, though. He practically never got to see his friends anymore, and he wanted to take advantage of this rare opportunity and have fun with someone other than a toddler.

Before getting out of the car, he took a moment to gather his wallet, phone, and sheet music from the passenger's seat. As he did, he glanced in his rearview mirror and a sudden pang of sadness to hit him when he saw Ollie's empty car seat.

He sighed, giving in to the familiar feeling of separation anxiety. Every time Sebastian took Oliver for a weekend, Blaine could hardly stand how much he missed his son. He always felt like he was missing out on chunks of his boy's life. Granted, they were never more than just a couple days long and God knew that Sebastian missed far more time with their son than he did, but still, Blaine sometimes couldn't stand the thought that Ollie was playing and talking and growing somewhere without him. Even though he'd given birth eighteen months ago, it still felt like his baby was a part of him, an extension of himself, and it hurt to be separated.

Blaine took several calming breaths, reminding himself that Ollie would be snuggled into his chest again on Sunday evening and that wasn't that far away. After another minute of psyching himself up for his friends, Blaine left the car and approached the frost and ivy-covered brick fortress that was Dewey Hall, his former residence at Dalton.

He reached out to pull open the door of the side entrance of the building, but jumped back with a yelp when the door suddenly flew open from the inside.

"_There_ you are!" Wes's irritated voice barked. "Do you know what time it is, Blaine?!" he continued, grabbing the startled boy's wrist and yanking him forward. "We were supposed to go on almost an _hour_ ago! The people are getting restless! There's talk of mutiny!"

Sure enough, as the distressed head Warbler dragged him down the hallway toward the spiral staircase that led up to the dorm rooms, Blaine could hear the muffled chanting coming from the Senior Commons room at the far end of the hall. _Warblers! Warblers! Warblers! _He smiled at the slow mantra, remembering how worked up the student body always got for the show choir's performances.

"It's nice to see you too, Wes," he teased as they ascended the stairs. Blaine took a nostalgic moment to recall how often he used to walk this route to his room when he still attended Dalton. As they passed the second floor landing, his eyes glanced over a rectangular spot on the wall where the paint was slightly paler than the surrounding area. There was an immediate sinking feeling in his stomach when he remembered how he and Sebastian had knocked the photograph that had once hung there down during a rather heated make-out session.

"Save the niceties for later, man. I need you ready to go in the Senior Commons ASAP. I think they might start rioting soon," Wes responded. "I hope you've gotten enough practice by yourself, because now there's no time to run through it and we're gonna have to run it dry."

Blaine suddenly felt his first wave of nervousness come over him at the statement. "I, uh, yeah. It should be fine," he replied, trying to convince himself more so than the other boy.

They stopped when they reached Wes and David's room in the middle of the third floor hallway, where all the senior rooms were. Wes wrenched the door open and threw his friend inside. Blaine stumbled slightly before catching himself on Wes's desk.

"Drop your stuff, fix your hair, and then get your ass downstairs."

"Alright, alright!" said Blaine.

Wes finally smiled as he turned to leave. "It'll be good to see you in the Dalton colors again, man."

Blaine smiled back. "It's great to be back, Wes."

"We've missed you," Wes added, still smiling. "See you down there."

Blaine nodded warmly to his friend before he closed the door and left him alone to gather himself.

He wasted no time in shedding his winter coat and hat and then re-sculpting his hair into the dapper, side-part do that was customary for Warbler performances.

After a final smooth-over to make sure his tailored blazer didn't have any wrinkles, Blaine left the room and headed back toward the spiral staircase. There were still a few stragglers left in the halls that kept filing past him as he went, clearly hurrying on their way to the Senior Commons room. Blaine took a deep breath as he walked. It really had been a long time since he'd preformed anything in front of a crowd, and this was not a performance he wanted to screw up.

The entire student body of Dalton looked forward to the Warbler Valentine's party every year. It was a tradition that went back fifty years. There was obviously a lot of pressure on them to make not only the party a hit, but also their performance. After all, if the event stopped being anything short of a wild success, there was no way that the faculty would continue to simply turn the other cheek toward the fact that their students and their invited dates overtook Dewey Hall every year in order to cause a little mayhem. But the Dalton tradition was one that placed a lot of trust and responsibility on the students, and so the rule with the Valentine's bash had always been that as long as no people or property got hurt, it would continue to be the one event a year that was chaperone-free.

Blaine certainly didn't want to be the one to suck it up so bad that the students actually _would_ riot and therefore put an end to the tradition. He didn't even go there. But this was his passion. Performing was what he loved the most in the world other than his son. So he'd be damned if he didn't give it his all.

He turned onto the staircase and started down it with his heart pounding in his ears. He sincerely hoped he'd been able to go over his part of the a capella number enough times that afternoon not to cause distress on that level.

A few more boys rushed past Blaine in their haste to get to the room where the chanting seemed to be getting louder and louder. He instinctively reached for the pocket-watch in his pocket, as was his nervous habit. He was concentrating on reading the time on the small, golden device as he neared the bottom of the stairs.

He never did find out what time it was, though. Because suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder. And suddenly he found himself drowning in a pair of the bluest eyes he'd ever seen.

"Excuse me," the eyes said in a melodic voice.

_No_, Blaine thought. _Eyes don't have voices. Look away. Look at the rest of his face. _Blaine allowed his gaze to move away from the dazzling eyes and rest on the rest of the figure who had tapped his shoulder. He found himself looking at a tall, lean, well-coiffed teen with pale skin and sharp features. _Gorgeous_, was Blaine's first thought, and he immediately felt the heat rise in his cheeks.

"Umm, hi. Can I ask you a question? I – I'm new here," the boy said, clearly nervous. "Like literally brand new. My dad just finished helping me unload all my stuff in my room," he added in an uneasy ramble.

Blaine took a moment to note that this newcomer was dressed in a stylish black jacket and leg-hugging khakis. The outfit looked good, but it definitely didn't fit in at Dalton. Any student who had been there longer than a day would know that even on the weekends, like it was now, Dalton students still wore their uniforms on school grounds. It was a community pride thing.

Blaine smiled at him and extended his hand, hoping a friendly demeanor would put the boy more at ease. Even though he didn't officially attend Dalton anymore, that was no reason he couldn't be welcoming to new students. "My name is Blaine," he stated, trying to pour on the charm.

Blue Eyes returned the smile, already seeming to loosen up. "Kurt," he said, accepting the handshake. "So, what exactly is going on? I was unpacking and then I heard everybody rushing through the halls."

"The Warblers," Blaine replied with a grin. "Every year they throw this awesome Valentine's party in the Senior Commons. It's un-chaperoned and everyone's invited. The kick-off performance is about to start," he explained. "The Warblers tend to draw a crowd."

He narrowed his eyes skeptically. "So, wait. The Glee Club here is kind of cool?"

"The Warblers are like rock stars," Blaine stated matter-of-factly.

Another small smile crept onto his face and Blaine couldn't help but notice how cute it was.

"Come on," he found himself saying, "I know a short-cut." Before he knew what he was doing, Blaine had reached for the new boy's hand and was pulling him into the painted corridor that ran alongside the main hallway. If he thought his heart was pounding hard before, it was nothing compared to how hard it was beating now.

They rounded the corner into the packed Senior Commons and Blaine reluctantly dropped the boy's hand. He gave some knowing nods to some of the Warblers who lit up when they saw him, and then turned back to the newcomer. The boy looked around at all the uniformed guys in the room in a kind of awe, blue eyes wide and even a little scared looking.

"Woah," the melodic voice said, "I stick out like a sore thumb."

Blaine found himself smiling hugely at the comment. _I bet you'd stick out anywhere; you're _stunning_. _

"Well next time, don't forget your jacket, new kid." Blaine reached out boldly and straightened the lapel of the boy's black coat. "You'll fit right in," he assured him with a wink, his confidence surprising himself.

The boy gave him a thankful look and relaxed his shoulders a bit.

"Now, if you'll excuse me…" Blaine said as he stepped away from him. He turned to the group of gathering Warblers behind him, all smiling widely and gratefully at him.

Blaine took a deep breath. All of a sudden - and he had no idea why - but in that moment, the only thing he found himself able to care about was impressing the blue eyed stranger. _Kurt_, he thought to himself, remembering the name the boy had said on the stairs. _Well, Kurt, this one's for you._

Wes nodded to him ever so slightly. It was his cue to start. It was now or never.

"Before you met me, I was alright," Blaine began the song tentatively. The rest of the Warblers' voices filled in behind his and the song began to build on itself. "But things were kind of heavy. You brought me to life." When he turned back to face the room of eager Dalton students and their dates, his eyes found Kurt's black coat at once and he felt a confident smile grew on his face. "Now every February, you'll be my Valentine. Valentine."

Blaine was now front and center of the formation of singing boys and he immediately fell into a simple side step pattern to match the beat of the song like they used to do, which, thankfully, the rest of the boys followed. "Let's go all the way tonight. No regrets. Just love." His eyes locked on Kurt's and couldn't seem to pull them away. "We can dance until we die. You and I, we'll be young forever. You make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream, the way you turn me on."

As he belted out the refrain, it became clear to Blaine that he really was singing the song directly to Kurt, but try as he might, he just couldn't get himself to look away. He'd even throw in a spin move every now and then as the song went on, but his eyes would still find Kurt's again like it was the most natural thing in the world. "I can't sleep. Let's run away and don't ever look back, don't ever look back." How did this boy already have him so entranced?

By the time they were halfway through the song, the energy in the room was palpable. Blaine laid into every single note with everything he had and the Warblers continued to back him up perfectly. Blaine could tell he was dominating the performance. It was probably his best one to date. He'd almost forgotten the thrill of energizing a whole room, the sensation of goosebumps that would flood over his whole body when he could see them reacting to him. This time though, all it took was the light blush on Kurt's cheeks and his downright _adorable_ smile to make Blaine feel like he could explode from the amount of performance adrenaline pumping through him.

"Let you put your hands on me in my skin-tight jeans, be your teenage dream tonight." The last note escaped Blaine's lips and the Warblers fell silent behind him.

"Happy Valentine's Day, everybody!" he called out.

The crowd immediately went ballistic in a roar of wild cheering. Blaine was finally broken out of his trance on the clapping, wide-eyed Kurt when about six pairs of Warblers' hands seized him from behind at once. In the next instant, he was drowning in sea of hugs and high fives from his former schoolmates.

Two hours later found Blaine, Jeff, Thad, Wes, and David gathered in the middle of the bustling party in the Senior Commons, laughing hysterically at the anecdote Wes was telling about their new calculus teacher at Dalton. Red solo cups (all placed on coasters, mind you) containing a blend of whatever contraband liquors the Dalton boys could smuggle into the dorms littered the coffee table and all around them people were dancing and talking as the music from Wes's laptop pounded through the speakers.

Neither Blaine nor his close friends were big drinkers, so no one was drunk to the point of impairment, but the light buzz from the mystery concoction was certainly taking effect. Amidst the stories and laughter and warm bubbly feeling from the drinks that had commenced as soon as the performance finished, Blaine had almost completely forgotten about the new blue-eyed Kurt. Almost.

He still found himself glancing around the room every so often to see what they boy was up to. He saw him making seemingly uncomfortable small talk with a few people a while ago, but now Blaine didn't see him anywhere. He craned his neck a bit and scoured the room for him harder, but he still didn't spot the black coat anywhere. He found himself feeling irrationally disappointed that Kurt had apparently left the party.

But then he made himself shake it off and direct his attention back to Wes as he spoke. He came here to hang out with his old friends after all. Not to pine after some person he'd never met and would probably never even see again anyway. He missed his friends, and he loved to take advantage these occasions to catch up with everyone and hear the latest of the always out-of-control goings on at his once beloved Dalton.

"You look good, Blaine," David commented, turning the conversation toward him. "What have you been doing with yourself?"

Blaine smiled at the compliment. He didn't receive many. "Thanks. I actually started boxing. I convinced my mom to watch Ollie for a while in the evenings when she gets home from work so I can go to the gym. It's basically my only escape from the house most days."

"It's working for you, man," said Jeff. "The fencing team is missing you though. I mean, we all knew Dalton took a hit when you ended up leaving the same year that Seb graduated, but we really suck now, dude. We all wish you could come back and redeem us."

Blaine chuckled, briefly reminiscing his two years on the varsity fencing team. It was always a bittersweet thing to think about, as was the Warblers. These were the places he'd thrived in and loved. But it was also through these activities that he and met and been wooed by Sebastian, the charming, popular upperclassman who seemed to have the entire school wrapped around his finger.

"Well, I'm not sure how much help I'd be now. I don't think I've touched a sabre since before I was pregnant. Now my expertise are pureeing organic baby food and playing peek-a-boo until I'm blue in the face."

The other boys all laughed.

"How is Ollie doing? I bet he's getting _huge_ now," Wes commented. "I haven't seen him since before Christmas."

Blaine couldn't help the smile that came over his face. It was the same proud grin he always got when someone asked about Oliver. "He _is_ huge! Well, it seems like it to me, anyways. He seems bigger every day."

David chuckled. "Yeah, well, let's be honest. How huge could _your_ kid possibly get? Like, five-one, five-two?" he joked.

Blaine tossed a throw pillow at him. "I am _not_ that short! I am five-seven and three quarters, for your information. And Sebastian's like six-two, so Ollie should be fine."

"Whatever you need to believe man," David said through a laugh. He always did love teasing Blaine about his height. Of course, that was mostly back when Blaine was several inches shorter than he was now.

Blaine just sighed good-naturedly. "Anyways, as I was saying before I was so _rudely_ interrupted," he eyed David up and down before he continued, "Ollie's great. He's recently started climbing everything in sight, so the baby gates have become pretty much ineffective. You also have to be really careful about what you say around him now because he understands everything and _will_ repeat it. He's talking way above the norm for kids his age and now he's even started to pick up French from the Smythes."

"Wow," Wes said, "Sounds like you have quite the little prodigy on your hands."

"Well, of course, Wes. Would you expect anything less from the offspring of Mr. Perfection?" Blaine joked, referencing the old nickname he'd been given by the Warblers.

His friends chuckled again.

"So, how're things with Seb?" Jeff asked then, raising a curious eyebrow. The rest of the boys all leaned in a bit closer at the question, obviously all wondering the same thing.

Blaine sighed, the smile dropping from his face. Obviously, he knew this question would be coming.

During Blaine's time at Dalton, he and Sebastian had been the school's power couple. The the two boys was always the main topic of gossip at the school, and dating the older Warbler had sky-rocketed Blaine's popularity to the point that by the beginning of his sophomore year, he was the first sophomore to ever be nominated for homecoming court. Of course he ultimately lost the vote to his green-eyed, charismatic, senior boyfriend. Later that year when the word spread that he was pregnant, Blaine's popularity and the fascination with his relationship with Sebastian only increased. Apparently they were still hot gossip, enrollment status be damned.

"Sebastian is just… Sebastian," he said, humoring his friends' curiosity, although he knew their concern for him went beyond high school chatter. "We're not together, even though I think my dad might sell a freakin'_ kidney_ to get us together at this point. I don't even know what Seb thinks, actually. He seems to share our parents' delusion that we should get married, but I cannot, for the life of me, figure out why. He hooks up with other guys at OSU all the time. And then today, when we were handing Ollie off, he made some comment about us having more kids… It was weird. We can't even have a five minute conversation without it turning into a huge argument, so I don't know why he thinks we could be husbands."

As if on cue, Blaine's phone vibrated in his pocket.

"Speak of the devil," he said, picking up the phone and opening the new picture message.

A smile immediately lit his face when he saw his son beaming back at him, clad in a pair of yellow swim trunks and yellow arm floaties to match. Then his eyes trailed down to the message typed beneath the photo:

_We got here fine. He wanted in the pool right away. Say hello to Oliver Smythe, future backstroke Olympian. – Seb_

"Oh, I know that smile," said David. "Dopey grin and all sparkly eyed. That can only mean one thing. Baby picture. Let's see it."

"You know me well," Blaine conceded. Then he passed the iPhone around to his friends who all took turns ooh-ing and aww-ing at what seemed like a sweet, well-meaning text from father to father.

Blaine knew better though. He knew that Sebastian was not the casual cute photo sharer. If Blaine had learned anything about his ex over the past three years, it was that there was always a deeper motive behind everything Sebastian did. Understanding Sebastian Smythe meant understanding how to read between the lines. And Blaine read what was between the lines of this message loud and clear.

To him, this photo screamed, "_See? Swimsuit and floaties. I can take care of him just as well as you can, so don't underestimate my parenting skills again. - Seb_"

Blaine shook his head slightly as his friends gushed over the seemingly sweet photo. He felt like a weight had suddenly been placed on his chest. He hated that Sebastian felt the need to make everything seem like some kind of competition between them. Like he always needed to one-up Blaine for some reason. He didn't understand the need for all the passive-aggressive bullshit. What was the prize to be won? Didn't they both just want Oliver to be happy?

"Blaine," Thad's voice broke him out of his contemplative trance. "You have the cutest baby in North America."

He smirked at the comment. "Just North America? Please, Thad. This kid is easily the cutest in the world."

"I have a question, though," Jeff said as he passed the phone to Wes. "Why is Ollie's last name just Smythe? Why not Anderson-Smythe or vise versa?"

"Actually, my dad insisted," Blaine explained matter-of-factly. "He says hyphenated last names are for hippies. So we just made Anderson his middle name."

"Well, why couldn't his last name just be Anderson, though?"

Blaine raised an eyebrow. "Do you really think the all-powerful Smythes would have let that happen? Ollie is second in line behind Sebastian for inheriting the entire Smythe fortune. You think they'd chance the indignity of their money going to some bastard child not named Smythe?"

"No. Good point."

"Do you have to take Seb's name too when you guys get married?"

"We're not getting married, Jeff."

"Well, if you guys got married, you'd get Seb's money if he kicked it instead of Ollie, right? So you'd need to be a Smythe too."

"Why are we talking about this? Do you guys have a hit out on Sebastian or something?"

His friends all laughed. "No, man. It's just… your guys' parents…"

"Our parents, my mom excluded, like to live in their own little world. And apparently it's one where Sebastian and I are actually totally in love despite the fact that we basically can't stand to be around each other."

"You know, most people like to work that kind of kink out of their relationship before they reproduce."

"Shut up, Jeff."

More laughing.

Wes handed Blaine his phone back just in time for it to vibrate again with another message:

_Also, in regards to your whiplash comment, I seem to remember a time when you liked my driving. In fact, I recall getting a rather… enthusiastic reaction out of you after doing doughnuts in the Dalton faculty parking lot. Ring any bells? ;) – Seb_

He frowned at the screen. Unfortunately, Blaine recalled exactly the incident to which Sebastian was referring. It was on the night of the first day of school back from Christmas break in his sophomore year and Sebastian's senior year. Blaine now knew that he was already around six weeks pregnant by then, but at the time he was still oblivious.

The two had snuck off campus in Sebastian's Porsche to catch a late movie, and had arrived back at Dalton well after the dorms had been locked for the night. Blaine had already arranged for Wes to let them back in, but Sebastian didn't want to make things that easy.

"We'll just give the security guards a little distraction, and that'll make it all the easier for us to get back in unnoticed," Sebastian had said as they pulled into the forbidden, ice-coated faculty lot around midnight.

"Seb, I don't know. Why chance it?" Blaine had asked, incredulous once again of his boyfriend's danger streak.

Sebastian stopped the car, put it in park, and turned to face his boyfriend. "Bee," he said, "You gotta take some unnecessary risks now and then. It's what keeps you young." The mischievous glint sparkled brightly in his green eyes.

"But we're already young," Blaine said, starting to mirror the older boy's roguish grin.

"And I want to stay that way as long as possible. Life's gonna come at us fast after high school, Babe, and I have no intention of letting it beat my youth out of me. These are the times we're gonna want to remember."

Blaine nodded in response. He was sort of hypnotized by the words pouring out of Sebastian's mouth. He had this way of making even the worst ideas sound wise.

"So what are you going to remember? Hmm?" Sebastian continued. "Following the rules and being a good little boy? Or starting a little mayhem with your dreamy boyfriend?"

Blaine just shook his head, sill smiling. "What is this power you have over me?" he asked.

Sebastian's confident smirk grew. "You love me," he answered simply.

Blaine chuckled. "Guilty."

Sebastian drew in closer. "Trust me, Bee," he whispered.

Blaine could feel the older boy's breath ghost across his lips and he shivered from the pure excitement now rushing through him. He closed his eyes and closed the remaining distance between them, sealing their lips in a heated kiss.

They broke apart a moment later. Sebastian leaned back into the driver's seat, looking satisfied and confident as ever.

"I trust you," Blaine said without another moment's hesitation.

And with that, Sebastian sped out into the middle of the lot. The boys laughed and screamed as Sebastian threw the car into countless screeching circles and wide, flying arcs around the icy pavement with the Kooks blasting from the stereo the whole time.

Ten minutes later, the security guards cursed and scratched their heads in confusion as they stared out over the formerly very noisy, but now vacant faculty lot. Blaine and Sebastian had escaped over to the safety of Sebastian's assigned student space, where they had ended up in the back seat of the Porsche, lying tangled together until the early hours of the morning.

Now, over two years and a baby later, sitting in the Dalton Senior Commons, Blaine shook the memory from his head and typed out a calm reply to Sebastian's text:

_All I recall is two stupid, naïve boys making really terrible decisions. Ollie should be in bed soon. FaceTime? – Blaine_

FaceTiming before bed had become routine for whenever Sebastian had Ollie for a weekend. Blaine knew Sebastian wasn't too fond of the idea, but after one disastrous Saturday night when the Smythes' phone service went down and they couldn't do it and Ollie balled his eyes out all night long over missing his Daddy, Sebastian had conceded to making it happen.

"Hey guys," Blaine said when he tucked his phone back into his pocket. "Sebastian's gonna call me in a few minutes so I can FaceTime with Ollie. So, I'm gonna go upstairs for a while. It's quieter up there so it'll be easier to understand a rambling toddler."

His friends nodded their understanding and then he stood to make his way to the doorway of the crowded, noisy room. He narrowly missed being run over by two stumbling, hiccupping boys in blazers. Wes was up and corralling them in the next second, rattling off some chastisement about Dalton honor and dignity. Blaine chuckled as he left the room.

Ten minutes later, Blaine was sitting on Wes's bed and holding his iPhone out in front of him so he was in view of the camera. He could clearly see Oliver on the other end of the call, snuggled soundly on Sebastian's lap in a pair of blue footie pajamas.

"Are you having fun with Papa?" Blaine asked his son, unable to hold back a smile at how darn _cute_ the little boy was.

"Dada, hay-uh!" the toddler said, pointing a finger straight at him through the camera.

"What's that, Ollie?" Blaine asked, legitimately confused.

"Hair," Sebastian's voice clarified. "He's pointing to your hair. He probably thinks it looks weird all gelled like that."

"Oh," Blaine suppressed a laugh. He supposed this probably was the first time Oliver had seen his regularly wild hair quite _this_ sculpted. "Hey Ollie, did you go swimming?" he asked.

Ollie smiled. "Sim!" he affirmed, clapping his hands twice.

Blaine exaggerated a surprised gasp. "You did?! What else did you do with Papa today?"

The boy's smile grew and took on what was perhaps a hint of his Papa's mischievous glint. Then, as if to answer Blaine's question, he immediately stood up in Sebastian's lap and proceeded to climb over the top of his other father's shoulder, gripping a handful Sebastian's meticulously combed brown hair to pull himself up.

"Ollie!" Sebastian said, surprise evident in his voice, "Where do you think you're going?" The camera shook violently and the picture blurred as Sebastian tried to gather the climbing boy back into his arms. Blaine could hear Ollie's shrieks of enjoyment at the game.

A smile twitched at his mouth. He immediately recognized this game. This was a new one Ollie had initiated in the past month or so – climb all over whoever's closest like they're a personal jungle gym. Then the familiar sinking feeling returned. He really didn't want to be jealous that his baby was climbing all over Sebastian right then instead of all over him, that it was Sebastian who was playing with him and tickling him and making him laugh, but he couldn't help it.

And then, all at once, he missed his baby so much that he felt like he could cry. In that moment, Blaine could care less that he had a roomful of his best friends waiting for him downstairs. He could care less that he'd just delivered the best performance of his life. He just wanted his son in his arms again.

"…Ollie, clam down," Sebastian's voice registered once again. "You need to calm down for bed, okay?" The camera finally stopped moving and settled on Ollie now cuddled into Sebastian's side.

"You played Jungle Gym with Papa, Buddy?" Blaine asked, trying to mask some of his sadness.

The curly haired toddler just giggled impishly and then inserted his thumb into his grinning mouth.

"Okay, it's time to say goodnight now. It'd bedtime," Sebastian stated, sounding slightly bored. Then his face entered the frame of the camera as he leaned down closer to where Ollie's head was resting on his bicep.

"Say bye to Daddy!" he said cheerfully to the little boy. "Dites au revoir!"

"Or-va!" Ollie repeated to the best of his ability.

Blaine just smiled sadly, doing his best to remind himself that he would talk to Ollie again tomorrow night.

"Au revoir, Ollie. Je t'aime," he responded, using his limited French knowledge.

"Luh you!" Ollie squeaked, making Blaine's heart melt a little.

"Night, Blaine," Sebastian said briskly. "Try not to make any more 'really terrible decisions' tonight at Dalton."

Blaine rolled his eyes at the reference to his earlier text. Sebastian really couldn't seem to leave _anything_ alone. Then the camera shifted abruptly as Sebastian withdrew it from his filming angle.

"Kiss him goodnight for me!" Blaine tried to shout before Sebastian could hang up the call, but there was no response and the line went dead.

He let out an exasperated groan and let himself fall back on Wes's bed. He was doing his best not to let the tears pushing at his eyes fall. He tried to think of anything else other than the burning ache in his arms where he felt like Ollie should be. He knew he was doing exactly what his mother had told him not to; he was sitting and letting himself wallow in his baby blues rather than taking advantage of the fact that he had a whole un-chaperoned dorm full of teenage shenanigans at his disposal. But he didn't get why he couldn't bring himself to care.

The fact remained that he was still young and healthy and vibrant, so why couldn't he act like it? His Postpartum Depression had let up a few months ago and he thought he really had been doing better lately. Maybe he wasn't out of the woods yet. Or maybe all this parents/Sebastian/I-miss-my-baby crap pushing down on him would just never let him get back up.

After a long time, he wasn't sure how long, (and after a few tears had managed to break through the dam) Blaine finally managed to settle his thoughts on something other than the cavernous feeling of loneliness in his chest. He hummed the chorus to "Teenage Dream" over and over again and just tried to block out everything else and recall the notes in his mind as images of deep blue eyes flitted across his consciousness.

Then another melody began to interrupt his Katy Perry haze. It was something he hadn't heard before… something melodic and maybe even a little ballad-esque. He couldn't quite make out the words, but it sounded like it was close.

Blaine opened his eyes and arched an eyebrow in confusion. Then he raised his head and listened for a moment. The music was coming from behind the wall directly to his right. Someone was playing it next door.

At long last, he made himself sit back up. He got up from the bed and went into the hallway.

Blaine didn't think anybody else was left on the whole floor with the party going on downstairs. And this song certainly was not the typical heavy bass music usually blared out on weekends on a floor full of high school boys, so who would be up here alone just playing music like that?

He turned the corner into the hallway and the volume immediately increased as the song built up and trickled out of the room next door.

"_While our blood's still young… It's so young, it runs…"_

He moved toward it and paused when he reached the door. It was open just the tiniest crack, and he tried to peer through the small opening to see if he could recognize who was inside.

The room's occupant was seated at his desk on the opposite said of the room, concentrated on his computer screen and facing away from the door. Blaine could only make out the back of this person's head and shoulders, but he already caught himself biting back a laugh at the way the boy swiveled in his chair and nodded his head to the song.

Blaine leaned even a little bit closer to the open crack in the doorway. He just wanted to see if he could get even the slightest of better views into the intriguing room.

But of course, his clumsy foot made contact with the bottom of the door, causing it to nudge open and the ancient hinges to creak like a cat in distress. Blaine gasped in surprise and instantly tried to step back, but the damage had been done. The figure whipped around in his desk chair, and before he could back out of the now open doorway, blue eyes were locked on him.

Kurt stared at him from his desk. His facial expression seemed caught somewhere between terror and intrigue.

The music trickled on: _"…Our rights, our wrongs… A moment of… A moment of…"_

And standing there, drowning in that sea of blue, all Blaine could think was that this might be his new favorite song.

**P.S. For anyone who cares, the Kooks song I imagined playing while Blaine and Seb were in the car in the flashback is called "Naïve." I feel it fits their relationship well. **


	3. Chapter 3

3

Shocked blue searched flustered hazel for a few moments more before either boy thought to speak.

"…Hi," Kurt said carefully, breaking the tense silence. "Um, Blaine, right?"

"I, uh, Blaine. Hi, yes," Blaine replied, immediately giving himself a mental kick in the head for his blithering idiocy. He closed his eyes and forced his racing mind to calm down before he tried again. "I mean, Yes. I'm Blaine. Hello, again, Kurt." Then he tried to pull on a smile – anything he could do to seem like less of a psycho at that moment, given that he was sure his eyes were also bloodshot from the teary pity-party he'd just thrown for himself.

Naturally, he took a moment to appraise Kurt's appearance again. He'd changed out of his black coat ensemble from earlier and now he was sporting a simple gray T-shirt and a pair of black sweatpants. He couldn't help but notice the way the sleeves of the T-shirt hugged Kurt's surprisingly toned biceps.

"I'm sorry. Am I being too loud?" Kurt guessed when Blaine didn't say anything more. He turned to close his computer and therefore silence the music playing.

"N-no," Blaine said frantically. "It's not too loud. It's… nice."

Kurt turned back to face him, looking even more confused. Blaine could feel the other boy's eyes sweep over him, no doubt taking in his tear-stained eyes and slightly mussed hair from lying on Wes's pillow. "Thanks…" he replied slowly, cautiously.

"Um, what was it?" Blaine asked, feeling like he needed to strike up a conversation about _something_ now that he was planted awkwardly in the doorway.

A small, perhaps curious smile pulled at Kurt's lips, and once again his expression shifted from confusion back to intrigue. "'Sweet Disposition'" he said with a chuckle. "It's from The Temper Trap_._ Do you know them?"

Blaine shook his head 'no.'

The smile grew slightly. "Well, they're one of my favorites lately."

Blaine licked his lips as Kurt spoke. He still had no idea what exactly it was that this boy did to him, but he found himself completely transfixed as he watched Kurt's lips form words. "It sounds great," he said through his daze.

Kurt let out a musical chuckle at the boy in his doorway. "It is." He paused, eyes glancing back up at Blaine's bloodshot ones. When he continued, his tone was more somber. "Did you need something, Blaine?"

Blaine's eyes widened. A small shiver ran up his back when he heard Kurt use his name so casually. "Me? Oh, no. No, I'm fine." He stopped to take a breath and gather himself before he could ramble more. "Sorry I just came stumbling in here. I'm not drunk, I swear. I just didn't think anyone else was up here with the party going on, so when I heard the music I just wanted to come see who it was," he explained.

"Ah," Kurt said with a nod. "Well, it's just little old me." He smiled warmly.

Blaine noted the way eyes seemed to glimmer when he smiled. "So it is," he said, returning the smile.

A small silence ensued in which the boys' eyes didn't leave each other's. Blaine could have sworn he saw some pink enter the newcomer's cheeks.

Kurt was the one to break the silence. "You were really great tonight at the party," he said, his eyes communicating his sincerity. "You know, you're a pretty captivating performer, Blaine Warbler."

A long dormant warmth rose up in Blaine's chest. He gulped at the unfamiliar sensation. Was Kurt _flirting_ with him? Practically no one besides Sebastian had ever flirted with him. Which was understandable when he considered the fact that he barely went anywhere without a toddler glued to his hip. That really didn't do much for reeling in many eligible young bachelors. He'd almost forgotten the feeling of having someone he was actually _attracted to_ flirt with him.

Blaine laughed nervously at the comment. "Thank you, Kurt. That's nice of you to say. That was my first performance in a really long time, so I'm glad… I'm glad you liked it." He bit his lip for a second. He wondered if Kurt had noticed the fact that he'd sung the entire song to him. "Oh, and it's, um, Anderson. Blaine Anderson, please," he said with a smile. "Although Blaine Warbler does have a nice ring to it."

Kurt laughed. "Well, you're welcome, Blaine _Anderson_."

Blaine reveled again in the feeling that Kurt saying his name gave him.

"When did you join?" he asked, causing Blaine to go rigid. "I mean, you must be a third or fourth year member to be the front man, right? I'm just wondering how long it takes to get a whole glee club wrapped around your finger like that."

Blaine blushed. "Um, I uh…" he reached up to scratch the back of his head, another nervous habit. He searched his mind for the right way to say this. How could he explain his situation to Kurt without totally freaking him out? "I joined the Warblers when I was a freshman, but actually…" he trailed off and glanced down at his blue blazer. "God, this probably going to seem really weird." He gestured to the uniform. "But I'm actually not the front man. I actually don't even go here. Not anymore."

Kurt narrowed his gaze skeptically for a moment. "What do you mean?" he asked, clearly totally confused.

"Well, I don't go to school anymore," he tried to clarify. "My friends just invited me back for tonight."

Kurt looked contemplative for a moment. "Oh," he began, a look of realization coming over his face. "So, you graduated."

Blaine's face fell. He really wanted to try and explain this without having to tell a gorgeous, interesting stranger that he had to quit high school in order to raise a baby when he was sixteen. He was so sick of being known as the kid who had the baby. He saw no reason for Kurt to see him that way too. At least, not yet.

"No, I didn't graduate. Not technically," he began. His stomach clenched when he saw Kurt's eyes narrow. He hoped the kind boy wasn't judging him. He was tired of people always judging him. "I used to go to Dalton but then… there were some, um, family issues to take care of and I had to drop out." Blaine figured that was specific enough to not be a lie, but vague enough to not give anything away.

"Oh," Kurt said, surprised. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry."

"It's okay. I know I'm kind of a unique case," Blaine assured the other boy. "I would be a senior this year, had I stayed in school. But I study with a tutor a couple times a week and I should still get my diploma this spring."

"Oh, well, that's great," said Kurt with a small, reassuring grin, seeming unsure what else to say at the sudden influx of information.

Blaine returned the grin and another small silence ensued before Kurt let out a sigh.

"It just figures though," he said, lowering his eyes to the floor. His face took on an expression trapped between amusement and incredulousness.

Blaine cocked his head to one side. "What figures?"

Kurt let out a humorless laugh. "That the one guy who's been decent enough to talk to me for more than two sentences since I got here doesn't even go here." He raised his eyes back up to Blaine.

"Oh…" Blaine began, picking up on the edge of sadness in the other boy's voice.

"No, no, it's fine. I'm sorry. I didn't mean for that to sound so broody and pitiful. I'm not like, self-loathing or emo or anything, I swear."

Blaine put on a crooked smile. "Well, I'm glad to hear that."

"Yeah," Kurt breathed. He licked his lips, looking contemplative. "Would you like to come in and sit down?" he asked, causing Blaine's eyebrows to shoot up. Noting his surprise, Kurt continued, "I mean, we've just been having a full-out conversation with you standing in my doorway and I figure if we're going to continue it, you should at least make yourself more comfortable."

Blaine felt the heat rise in his cheeks. He found it both completely incredible and relieving that Kurt wanted to keep talking to him even after he'd already admitted to being a high school dropout with family issues. He couldn't really think of any other time he'd experienced such immediate, unconditional acceptance.

"Yeah," he replied, taking a step inside the small single room. "Yeah, I'd really like that."

Kurt smiled and Blaine noted that excited glimmer in his eyes again. He crossed the room and took a seat on Kurt's neatly made bed.

Kurt turned around more in order to straddle the back of his desk chair so he could face Blaine easily. He leaned his forearms on the top of the chair and smirked up at Blaine. "So how come you're not down at the party with all your Warbler friends?"

His breath caught in his throat at the question. How was he supposed to answer that? _Oh yeah, you know, I was just chatting with my son and baby daddy in the midst of raging high school party. Then I broke down into a depressive anxiety attack… No big deal. Completely normal._ "I guess I was just looking for something in Wes and David's room," he answered calmly, motioning toward next door.

Kurt continued to look up at Blaine. He narrowed his eyes slightly, as if he was trying to see beyond what Blaine was telling him, trying to really see what was making him tick. "Mmm," he responded. "Did you find it?"

Blaine's small smile returned. He was impressed with how perceptive Kurt seemed to be. "No, actually."

"Well, I'm sure it'll turn up. Sometimes people find what they're looking for where they least expect it. Sometimes they just stumble into it." Kurt put on a knowing smirk.

Blaine chuckled and let his eyes drop to the floor. "Yeah, I suppose they do." When he raised his eyes to Kurt again, they met and held for another long moment.

"So, Anderson," Kurt began, "tell me more about this glee club of yours."

He cocked an eyebrow. "What do you want to know?"

Kurt looked contemplative for a moment. "How does one become a Warbler?"

Blaine's eyes widened. "Are you interested in becoming Kurt Warbler?"

The other boy laughed. It was a beautiful sound. "I think I'll stick with Kurt _Hummel_, but yes, I'm thinking about joining."

_Hummel_, Blaine noted mentally, _Well, hello, Kurt Blue Eyes Hummel. _

"I was in glee and musicals and at my old school and it was pretty much the only thing I liked about school at all. I'm also involved with this independent musical troupe in Columbus on weekends, so it would be great if I could pick that kind of stuff up at school here too."

As Kurt spoke, Blaine took note that Kurt's gray T-shirt was apparently from 'WMHS _West Side Story_.' _Glee Club and musicals? _he thought. _Wait, this gorgeous guy can _sing_ too? _Blaine gulped back an expression of pure awe from taking over his face. _Cool it, Anderson. You don't even know if he's gay. Although… musicals and anxious to join glee? Not to mention that poster of Lady Gaga… all signs point to yes…_

"Plus, the idea that the glee club isn't treated like the scum of the earth here is kind of rocking my world."

Blaine felt his expression fall at the words. "What do you mean? People didn't like your old glee club?"

Kurt let out a humorless laugh. "Uh, that would be a 'no.'"

Blaine frowned. "Where'd you go before?"

"McKinley in Lima," Kurt answered. "It was just your typical public high school. You know, designed to look like a prison and filled with delinquent assholes who might as well be in prison…"

Blaine chuckled at the description. He wondered why Kurt had transferred to Dalton in the middle of the year like this, and in February at that - not even at the beginning of the semester or anything. But he didn't know if it would be rude to ask, so he figured he wouldn't try to pry. After all, Kurt had been decent enough to pry any farther into his vague 'family issues' explanation or the reason for his tear- stained eyes. Blaine figured that Kurt's parents probably just had to move or something.

"McKinley's nothing like this place. Dalton seems like a total maze to me right now. Thanks for helping me earlier, by the way."

"It was no trouble at all. Yeah, Dalton can be a pretty overwhelming place if you're not used to it."

Kurt nodded. "In more ways than one," he said softly enough that Blaine wasn't sure if he was meant to hear it.

"Anyway," Blaine began, trying his best to segue, "you just have to audition for the Warblers. One song in front of the council and they'll decide," he explained.

Kurt nodded again. "I think I can handle that," he said with an impressive air of confidence.

From there the conversation fell into an easy exchange of music likes and dislikes, from which Blaine learned that Kurt was well versed in seemingly all genres of music, from musicals to alternative to hip-hop. They were deep into a friendly argument about the legitimacy of One Direction as a band (Kurt was deeply opposed while Blaine argued they had a certain _je ne sais quoi_) when Blaine's phone buzzed in his pocket.

"Excuse me," he said to Kurt when he took it out to read the text.

_Dude, where'd you go? You fall in the toilet or something? – Wes_

He smirked at the teasing text and then looked at the time on his phone. He and Kurt had been talking for over an hour. "Oh my God," he said.

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"Nothing, it's just… we've been talking for almost an hour and a half already! I had no idea…" he trailed off when he met Kurt's eyes again.

"Oh, wow. That's crazy," Kurt agreed. "Did you want to go back downstairs? I won't keep you any longer."

It occurred to Blaine that he should probably get back to his friends. He had come to see _them_, after all. But he was having such a good time talking with Kurt… For the past hour he hadn't thought about Sebastian or home stress or anything like that. He'd just been able to unwind and talk and chill out like a normal kid again. It was nice to finally talk with someone who didn't just identify him as 'the teenage dad.' He found himself really not wanting to leave. It couldn't possibly hurt to make a new friend, right?

"I don't have to go," he said, perhaps a bit too quickly, making Kurt's eyes widen in surprise. "I just mean," Blaine continued, slower, calmer, "I guess I'm just not really in the party mood anymore. This is more my speed." He gestured between himself and Kurt.

Kurt grinned.

"Plus, I've known those goons for years. They're old news to me by now."

The newcomer let out that musical chuckle once more.

Blaine smiled. "You, on the other hand, I find fascinating."

There was a beat of silence and Kurt went suddenly rigid, the nervous expression from earlier back on his face. For a moment, Blaine was afraid the line had been too much. He held his breath and waited for Kurt's reaction, really hoping he hadn't just blown it.

"Really?" Kurt said, biting his lip timidly.

Blaine let out the breath. "Yeah. I mean, we just seem to have a lot in common and I'm having a really good time talking to you…"

"Blaine," Kurt interrupted, his expression now very serious.

Blaine fell silent. "Yeah?"

"I'm gay," Kurt stated. Then his eyes dropped to his lap. "I just thought you should know before you go on talking to me like that."

Blaine restrained himself from jumping up and doing a happy dance at the affirmation of his suspicion (hope) about Kurt's being gay in order to address the more important issue.

"Talking to you like what?" he asked.

A tiny smile pulled at the edge of Kurt's mouth. "Like you actually like me."

Blaine cocked his head at the comment, reminiscent of the way Ollie did when he was contemplating something. "I do like you, Kurt."

Kurt sighed. "That's nice of you to say, but you don't have to. I'm giving you your out, here. You can get up and go before I make you more uncomfortable. No hard feelings."

Blaine was appalled at the way Kurt was speaking. What had this poor boy been through before that he immediately figured that people would be disgusted with him?

Blaine shook his head, trying to grasp the idea that this beautiful guy couldn't tell how wonderful he was. Blaine had just met him a few hours ago and he could already see it.

"I mean it, Kurt. I really do like you. And I'm not uncomfortable at all. Why would you think that?"

Kurt just shrugged. "Experience, I guess. Not a lot of people stick around once_… _well, once they know."

"Well, I'm not most people."

Kurt finally raised his eyes back up to Blaine.

"And I'm gay too, you know."

Kurt's eyes widened again just slightly.

"Oh, come on. Like you couldn't tell."

Kurt just shrugged.

"Kurt, we talked about Stephen Sondheim for fifteen minutes straight. You had to have known."

A small smirk slipped through his serious demeanor. "Yeah, well I did have my suspicions."

Blaine smiled.

"But recent experience has taught me not to assume _anything_ about anybody anymore." Kurt's tone was laced with cynicism.

Blaine picked up on it and the atmosphere in the room was immediately more somber. Kurt's eyes were staring ahead of him at nothing in particular and he looked completely lost in thought.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Blaine suggested timidly, hoping he wouldn't provoke Kurt to tears or something.

The blue eyes refocused on Blaine and Kurt smiled sadly. "No, that's alright. Let's just say that people can really surprise you, that's all."

Blaine nodded, although not entirely satisfied with the vague clarification. The only clear meaning he gained from it was that Kurt must have been carrying around some pretty heavy baggage. _Another thing we have in common_, he thought.

"Anyway," Kurt began in his formerly chipper tone, "sorry for going all broody again. I'm really not like that all the time, I promise."

"It's okay," Blaine assured him. "We all have our moments." He thought back to how he must have looked in Kurt's doorway just an hour ago: face all tear-stained and eyes bloodshot from crying. "What matters is that you can bounce back." Blaine felt a little cheesy reciting the old phrase his postpartum psychologist had always said to him, but it seemed to work okay in the situation.

"Right," said Kurt with a sweet grin. "Okay, let's change the subject now." He leaned forward and hugged the back of his desk chair, his eyes back to sparkling with excitement. "Now that I know you're gay, I have to ask. How is it here?"

Blaine raised an eyebrow. "How is what?"

"Being gay," Kurt clarified. "Are people accepting? I know that there's supposed to be a zero tolerance policy for bullying, but how is it really?"

"Oh. Yeah, everyone is really accepting mostly. There really aren't that many gay students here, not outed ones anyway, but there are a few and they get treated just like everyone else."

"Really?" Kurt asked, voice quiet and disbelieving.

"Yeah. I never had a single problem when I went here."

Blaine could see the hope rising in Kurt's expression.

"I mean, I was with my boyfriend _all the time_ and no one ever bothered us once."

And the hope immediately fizzled. "Oh," Kurt replied tightly, moving his eyes away from Blaine and back to the floor once again. "Well, that's great," he said with what Blaine could already tell was fake enthusiasm. "I'm glad the people here were so accepting of you two."

Blaine frowned slightly at Kurt's sudden decline into fake perkiness. He went over the last few seconds of the conversation in his head and then he realized his slip-up. He'd just referred to Sebastian as his boyfriend.

"Ex-boyfriend," Blaine blurted, making Kurt jump a little. "He's my ex now. We're not dating anymore," he added in a ramble.

"Oh, okay," Kurt said calmly, although a tiny smile came back across his face and Blaine swore he saw that little gusto come back to his eyes.

There was a beat of silence in which Kurt looked at Blaine contemplatively before speaking again. "I'm single too," he said, immediately biting his bottom lip as soon as the words left his mouth.

Blaine felt his eyebrows rise in intrigue.

"Just, um, so you know." Kurt's cheeks flamed red. It was adorable.

It took every ounce of Blaine's willpower to maintain his dapper charm and not do a fist pump of triumph. This gorgeous boy was gay and single and letting Blaine know it. And damn if that wasn't incredible.

He knew he couldn't let his excitement get the better of him, though. Yes, Kurt seemed to like him now – now, when he had no idea that Blaine had family drama coming out of his ears and, oh yeah, _a child_. Not to mention the baby-daddy debacle. The fact that Blaine was practically betrothed to Sebastian against his will probably wouldn't be a great selling point for any kind of relationship with Kurt.

The weight that had been lifted off his chest while he'd been talking with the new boy suddenly crashed back down on top of him. The fact of the matter was that as much as he would have loved to continue the first class flirt-fest he and Kurt had going on, he knew he couldn't lead the poor boy on. Blaine just could not let himself want normal teenager things. He was just not a normal teenager. So, no matter how damn adorable Kurt was, Blaine had to remind himself that he didn't need Blaine's drama dragging him down.

Blaine wiped the dopey smile off his face and cleared his throat. It sounded remarkably like the way his father would "clear his throat" in order to nip awkward situations in the bud.

"Right, well…" Blaine began in a diplomatic voice but then trailed off. He'd fully intended to make some excuse about being tired and then retreat back to Wes and David's room before Kurt fell any more into the delusion that they could actually be anything together, but then he found himself trapped in those blue orbs again, looking up at him so hopefully, and he knew he wasn't going anywhere.

"Do you want to watch a movie, maybe?" Kurt asked quickly, as if sensing Blaine's plan for retreat and countering it.

"I…" Blaine began in one last feeble attempt at doing the responsible thing and leaving. But the words died in his throat as soon as he saw the way Kurt's long eyelashes fluttered against his pale cheeks. "I… I would love to, Kurt."

A brilliant, relieved smile flashed across the other boy's face. "Great," Kurt said as he got to his feet. "What do you like? I have just about everything imaginable downloaded on my external hardrive." He turned to his desk and bent over to open the top drawer. Blaine blushed as soon as he caught himself staring at the other boy's backside as he fished the device out. "Well, everything imaginable that's _good_," Kurt added over his shoulder.

"I'm sure it's all really good," Blaine replied blankly, suddenly feeling very hot.

Blaine barely raised his eyes up from the object of his ogling when Kurt turned back around with an inquisitive expression.

"I just mean, if our taste in movies is as similar as our taste in music," Blaine said, giving himself a mental pat on the back for the save.

Kurt smirked at that and plugged the hardrive into his laptop. Then he lifted the computer and approached the bed. Blaine practically gasped when Kurt climbed right up next to him.

"I hope this is alright," he explained as he settled next to Blaine on the bed. "I think it'll work best if we sit here." He then proceeded to set the laptop over his right knee and Blaine's left, right where their legs were touching.

As Kurt went about selecting a movie, Blaine's mind was a million places at once. With the rush of adrenaline sparked by the fact that Kurt's leg and shoulder were pressed right up against him, he instantly panicked.

_Oh my God… what is he doing? Oh wow, he's warm… Wait, what am I doing? What am I supposed to do? Is he expecting me to do something? I haven't even_ sat_ this close to a guy since Sebastian. Sebastian would totally try something… No, goddammit, don't think about Sebastian! This is Kurt. Kurt with the killer blue eyes who smells nothing like Sebastian. He smells really really good actually... Would it be creepy to tell him he smells nice?_

As _The Wedding Singer_ started up on Kurt's computer, Blaine stole a glance at the other boy's profile. Kurt was watching the movie with a small grin on his lips, the light from the screen illuminating his pale skin beautifully. And as the two boys relaxed more into Kurt's pillows, Blaine already knew he was falling way too fast and way too hard for a boy that was basically still a stranger. But he just couldn't stop himself.

Blaine resolved to just concentrate on sitting up straight and keeping his hands placed safely in his lap and his eyes straight ahead as the movie played. He could have sworn he felt Kurt giggle at his forced posture at one point, but perhaps it was just the movie making him laugh. He had such a nice laugh.

They were about halfway through the movie when a huge ruckus echoed from down the hallway. Heavy footsteps and muffled laughter carried over the sound of Adam Sandler singing and both boys looked up from the screen.

"Sounds like the guys are back upstairs," said Blaine. "Wow, I honestly forgot there was even a party going on."

Kurt snickered. "Yeah, me too."

The boys heard some shuffling around in Wes and David's room next door.

"Blaaaaaainey!" a voice called out from the hallway. Blaine recognized it as David.

"Blaine? Where are you?" Wes's calmer voice echoed.

"Looks like I'm wanted in the hall," Blaine said to Kurt with an apologetic look. "I should probably get back to the guys," he added, even though it was practically the last thing he wanted at that moment.

Kurt nodded understandingly. "Right. Of course." He threw his legs over the edge of the bed and stood, allowing Blaine to stand also. "Well, thanks for humoring the new kid as long as you did."

"No, Kurt. It was my pleasure. Thank _you_ for letting me hang out in here as long as you did. I had a really great time."

Kurt smiled nervously.

As much as Blaine wanted to prolong his time with Kurt, the reality bug was still in the back of his head nagging him. He knew he should get out of there before he fell so hard he could never get up again. He nodded and smiled one more time in Kurt's direction, not trusting himself to look into the blue eyes again. Then he turned and took a step toward the door.

"Blaine, wait!"

Blaine froze instantly, goose bumps flaring all over his body. He turned back around to face Kurt.

The other boy was standing there, biting his lip once more and fidgeting with his hands timidly. "Um, I was just wondering… would you maybe want to get lunch together tomorrow?"

Blaine felt his eyes widen. He was _not_ expecting that.

"I just mean in the cafeteria. You know, as friends. If you'll still be here, that is. I just… I still don't really know anybody else here and I don't want to be alone."

Blaine's heart melted at the request. Kurt seemed so vulnerable and honest in that moment and Blaine wanted so badly to just say yes. Just to get that gorgeous smile back on Kurt's face. But he couldn't, and he knew that.

"Oh, well, I don't think I can, Kurt. I actually have get home pretty early in the morning. I promised my dad I'd help him around the house tomorrow. I'm sorry…"

"No, no that's fine, Blaine. Really. I shouldn't have assumed you'd be available."

Blaine could see the disappointment practically dripping off of Kurt.

"It's okay. I'll figure it out. That's what being new kid is all about, right?"

In that moment, Blaine wanted to kick himself for agreeing to help his dad with the guest bathroom renovation that weekend. He knew it was just one of his father's feeble attempts at bonding that were always madly unsuccessful, but he also knew that once you make plans with Cooper Anderson Sr., you sure as hell don't break them. Not unless you wanted a thirty-minute lecture on responsibility and a guilt trip that would probably follow you to the grave.

"Don't be silly," Blaine began, placing a reassuring hand on Kurt's shoulder before he could think better of it. "I wouldn't leave you here completely defenseless. I'll talk to my friends. I'm sure they'd love to have you join them at meals."

A delicate smile returned to Kurt's lips. "Really?"

"Absolutely. I mean, you'd get to know them sooner or later. If you're going to be a Warbler, that is."

"That would be really great. Thanks."

Their eyes lingered on one another for another silent moment.

"But I'm free on Sunday," Blaine heard himself say before his mind could catch up. He practically gasped once the words were out, shocked that they had come from nowhere. But once his mind could process what he'd said, and once he saw the way Kurt's face lit up, he knew he didn't regret saying them.

"Yeah?" a hopeful-looking Kurt replied.

"Yeah. Um, we could meet for coffee, maybe? I mean, if you want. There's this place that's a pretty regular haunt for Dalton students that you should probably know about…"

Kurt cut him off. "That sounds perfect."

Blaine felt himself smile like a dope. "Great. Um, how about you give me your number then? So we can hash out the details later?"

Kurt nodded as Blaine handed him his phone. He unlocked the device and then paused, quirking an eyebrow up at Blaine. "Who's the cutie in your background picture?" he asked, holding up the iPhone to reveal the picture of Oliver's spaghetti sauce-smeared face currently serving as Blaine's phone wallpaper.

Blaine's heart skipped a beat as he stared at the photo. He suddenly felt like a fist had settled in his chest and was squeezing his lungs. He knew he couldn't tell Kurt the truth about him. Not yet. They were getting along so well and Kurt hadn't judged him yet. Blaine was so scared that if he knew he was a father, Kurt would run for the hills before he could get one more word out.

Blaine had never experienced such mixed emotions in his life. He almost wished he had had enough sense to have just left Kurt's room hours before when he first realized how impossibly the odds were stacked against him. But it was too late now. So, feeling totally trapped, _knowing_ that it was probably worst set up to a potential relationship ever, he lied. At this point, it was a better option than letting Kurt walk away forever without even giving him a chance.

"It's… my nephew," he said. Blaine thought the vice-like feeling in his chest would subside with the fib, but it just grew worse as Kurt smiled back at him in response.

"That's adorable. He looks a lot like you, you know."

Blaine forced a tight smile. "Yeah, everybody says that."

Kurt finished typing in his number and handed the phone back to Blaine. "I'll see you Sunday, then?" he asked cheerily.

"Sunday," Blaine confirmed. "And I'll tell the guys to expect you at lunch tomorrow."

"Thank you, Blaine. For everything."

"You're welcome, Kurt. I'll see you soon."

They exchanged one last grin before Blaine turned and left the room. He pulled Kurt's door closed behind him. Then he sighed and slumped against the wall.

He was already in way over his head.


	4. Chapter 4

4

"_There _you are!" Wes barked when he spotted Blaine leant against the wall as he came around the corner of the hallway. "We've been looking for you everywhere, man." He paused and looked back and forth between his solemn-looking friend and the door he'd apparently just come out of. "Were you in the empty bedroom this whole time?"

Blaine let out a pained chuckle. "It's not empty anymore. I was hanging out with the new guy."

Wes cocked an eyebrow. "The new guy?"

Blaine nodded. "His name's Kurt. He just got here today."

Wes crossed his arms, skeptical. "You mean to tell me there's a new guy on the floor and I, the Senior Prefect, was not informed?"

"Yes. Look, can we move this into your room? I don't want him to hear us talking about him."

Wes moved toward Kurt's door, raising a hand to knock. "Well, I should probably introduce myself…"

"No!" Blaine interrupted.

The other boy looked at him like he had three heads.

"I mean… just wait a minute, okay? I really need to talk to you about him first."

Wes studied his friend's face closely.

Blaine bit his lip, betraying his anxiousness.

Then a look of realization came over the Warbler's face. "Oh my God. He's totally hot, isn't he? You in love, Blaine?" Wes beamed mockingly.

"Shh! Jesus, Wes, _no_. We just got to talking and he just seems really…" Blaine cast a nervous glance over his shoulder at Kurt's door. "Can we _please_ move this to your room?"

Wes sighed dramatically. "As you wish. I can't wait to hear this."

A minute later Blaine was standing in front of Wes's bed, where he and David sat attentively.

"Alright, Anderson. Spill," commanded Wes. "What is about this new kid that's got your panties in a twist?"

"Seriously, dude," David chimed in. "This guy better have something awesome like, fucking laser vision or hypnotic powers for you to ditch _us_ for him all night."

Blaine felt a slightly dopey smile come over him remembering Kurt's electric blue eyes. "You're actually not too far off," he said.

Wes and David shared a look.

Then Blaine began to pace back and forth across the small dorm room as he regaled them with the story of meeting Kurt on the stairs up until how he came to stumble into his room.

"Anyway, when I came up here to FaceTime with Ollie, I heard music playing and went to see what it was and it was him. Next door. Then, I don't know, we just got to talking and we just… flowed, I guess."

"Before this goes any farther, he's definitely gay, right?" David asked.

"Yes. Definitely. We talked about it and everything. But he seemed a little skittish about it."

We cocked his head. "What do you mean?"

Blaine shrugged. "He just seemed convinced that he wouldn't be accepted. Like he thought I'd hate him for being gay."

"Ha! Man, did he have _you_ pegged all wrong!" said David.

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Whatever, David. He seemed genuinely worried."

Wes rose to his feet and strode across the room to his desk, where his laptop sat open. "I'm going to check my Dalton email to see if I got any Prefect news about him," he explained. "Seems weird that he would just show up with no notice in the middle of the semester. In his senior year, no less. Maybe we can get some insight."

"Good idea," Blaine affirmed.

David scooted closer to the edge of the bed, looking intrigued. "While he does that," he motioned to Wes on the computer, "tell me more about what you two talked about for _hours_."

Blaine smiled. "We just talked about music, mostly. And his old school a little bit. Oh yeah! He said he wants to join the Warblers."

"Ooh, a singer too, eh?" David teased. "You always did have a soft spot for the chanteuses." He winked.

Blaine let out a nervous laugh. "Yeah, well, I told him he needed to audition with you guys. So be nice when he does, okay?"

David raised his hands, feigning innocence. "Blaine, when am I _ever_ not nice?"

"Oh, this is interesting," Wes piped up from his place at his computer.

"What?" Blaine and David asked in unison.

"Turns out I did get an email, but not until four p.m. today. It says here that Kurt is an 'Expedited Emergency Transfer.'" Wes turned to face his friends. "That means they let him right away on a temporary basis without having to go through the whole application process due to emergency circumstances. His enrolment will be permanent after a month if he keeps his grades up."

Blaine's brow furrowed. "So, what does that mean? He's here for sanctuary or something?"

"Essentially, yeah," Wes replied. "Apparently this kid must have gone through something pretty rough at his last school. These types of situations are pretty rare. Things have to be pretty damn serious to warrant emergency admission."

Blaine frowned at the news. He wondered what on earth Kurt had gone through in Lima that was so terrible he needed an immediate transfer. Could it have been something to do with what made him so apprehensive about outing himself?

"Heavy," David said. "Sounds like the guy is probably gonna need some major cheering up."

"Yeah," Blaine chimed in, "he seemed pretty anxious about not knowing anyone. I actually already told him that it would be okay if he ate lunch with you guys tomorrow. That's cool, right?"

"Of course," Wes replied without hesitation. "As if I wouldn't have invited him to eat with us anyways. I _am_ Prefect, after all. Part of my job is being a one-man Welcome Committee."

"Awesome. I think he'll be really relieved to have you guys. He seemed pretty bummed when I told him I don't actually go here."

David smirked. "Oh, I don't doubt it for a second. I bet he was just _devastated_ to learn that hunky Blaine Anderson wouldn't be around to ogle all day, every day."

Blaine smacked his friend upside the head. "Shut up, you ass."

"I'm being serious! Blaine, the kid let you hang out in his room for _hours_. He told he was gay, so he obviously wanted you to know. Plus, it's no secret that our little Blainey has blossomed into _quite_ the strapping young man."

Blaine scoffed. "Does your girlfriend know how much time you spend checking out other guys?"

David waved a hand, dismissing the remark. "Don't change the subject. So, you like him too then, right?"

Blaine blushed. "I… yeah. Yeah, I think I do. He was just so… captivating. I can't really explain it beyond that. I just feel like I _need_ to get to know him better, you know?"

"Well, did you score his digits?" David inquired with growing enthusiasm.

Blaine nodded. "And we're getting coffee together on Sunday."

"Atta boy!" David jumped up and raised his hand for a high five.

Blaine laughed and slapped his friend's hand.

"As pumped as I am to hear that Blaine's still got game," Wes began from his position at his desk, "let's not ignore the _enormous_ pink elephant in the room. How did he react when you told him about Oliver?"

Blaine's heart immediately sank to his stomach. "Oh, um, well…" Blaine sputtered, feeling his chest tighten once again at being reminded of his _major_ omission of the truth.

"Blaine…" Wes began in a scolding tone. "You did tell him, right?"

Blaine bit his lip guiltily. "Not exactly?"

"What!" Wes threw his head back dramatically and sighed.

"I just said I left school because of family issues. And when he saw the picture of Ollie on my phone, I… well I panicked and told him he was my nephew," Blaine said ashamedly.

"Blaine, like it or not, that kid is the single most important detail about yourself! You can't just fail to mention the fact that you're a father. _Especially_ at our age."

"I know that," Blaine snapped. "Trust me, I know what a big deal it is for people to know I have a kid. In fact, usually, that's the _only_ thing people know about me. They take one look at me with a baby and immediately presume to know all about my life. Well they _don't_, Wes. And excuse me if I didn't want another person judging me before he knew anything else at all about me at all."

"Woah, alright, calm down," said Wes, raising his hands in mock surrender. "You're absolutely right, okay? And I didn't mean to imply that that's all there is to you, but dude… If you really like this guy, you owe it to him not to leave him the dark."

Blaine sighed. "I know, I know. I just don't see the point in sabotaging the relationship before it even starts. I mean, if Kurt knew about Ollie right now, do you really think there's a chance in hell he would agree to a coffee date on Sunday? I just… I really want to see if we actually have a shot at anything before I drop a bomb like that on him."

Wes and David both nodded their understanding.

Then Wes began again, carefully. "I hear you, Blaine. And you're right. Maybe he doesn't need to know right away. But you have got to tell him soon. If you think this thing could go forward _at all _after Sunday, you have to tell him."

"I agree with Wes, man," David added.

Blaine nodded. "I know. And I will. But for now, he doesn't know and I don't want him to hear it from anyone but me, okay? So please, please, _please_ don't bring it up around him until I tell him myself."

Wes sighed in resignation. "I guess that's fair. But it is a pretty tall order. I mean, you want all the guys to keep quiet about you? That'll be tough. Especially since I'm sure he'll be full of questions about you."

"Right. Can't you just like, I don't know, threaten to revoke their Warbler membership of they spill?"

"Blaine Anderson, I would never disrespect the Warbler gavel by resorting to such extortion. I resent that you would even suggest such an idea."

Blaine rubbed the bridge of his nose, becoming stressed and tired of the discussion. "I'm sorry, Wes. I wouldn't want you to dishonor the gavel."

David tried and failed to hold back a snicker.

"But you could you just _please_ try to convey the importance of this to them? Have them help a former Warbler out?"

"We'll do our best," David interjected before Wes could respond. "If that's what you want, we'll do anything and everything in our power to make sure it happens. Right Wes?" He gave the other Warbler a warning look.

The other boy let out another long, defeated sigh. "Once a Warbler, always a Warbler. No one will tell the new guy about Oliver. You have our word," he said.

"Thank you," Blaine breathed in relief. "Seriously, you guys are the best."

"What about Sebastian, though?" Wes interjected before Blaine could say another word of thanks.

He froze, caught completely off-guard by the question. "What about him?"

"How is he going to feel about you dating?"

David leaned forward, obviously intrigued by the question.

Blaine scoffed. "_If_ this even escalates into full on _dating_, it'll be none of his business. We're not together, and it's not like I give him any shit about all the guys he hooks up with."

"Yeah, but we've all seen firsthand how possessive he is of you," David offered. "Remember when he made Tyler Crawford cry at the Halloween party just because his hand accidentally grazed your ass? He made him _cry_, Blaine."

Blaine rolled his eyes, recalling said incident in his mind. "That was when we were together. But as far as I'm concerned, he has given up the right to have any say in my romantic life at all. If he has a problem, then that's exactly what it is, _his _problem."

Wes and David shared a slightly surprised look, impressed by Blaine's sass.

"Aye-aye, Captain!" David exclaimed, giving a Blaine a salute.

Blaine laughed at his friend and punched his shoulder playfully.

"I just hope you'll be careful," said Wes, always the voice of reason in the group.

"Oh come on, Wes. Quit trying to bring him down. Just help a brother get his rocks off!" David winked at Blaine, who blushed furiously.

"David," he groaned. Spending practically all his time around his toddler son and immediate family for the past year and a half had almost made him forget how frequently the conversations of teenage boys took inappropriate turns.

"Seriously, Blaine. It has been_ way_ too long."

"David…" Blaine pleaded again, just hoping his friend would drop his disturbing fascination with his sex life.

"A man can't live on just his own hand alone."

"Alright dude, cool it," Wes said.

David raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay I will. But think about this, Wes. Blaine hasn't had a blow job in over _a year and a half."_

"Jesus, man!" Blaine exclaimed, face burning redder than ever. "What is the matter with you? Wes, he's your roommate. Can't you turn him off or something?"

Wes just laughed. "Believe me, I would if I could."

"Aww, I'm only teasing, Blainey. I'm sure those blue balls will clear up in no time. If everything goes well with this Kurt, that is." David dissolved into a fit of laughter.

"I hate you guys." Blaine buried his face in his hands and then took a seat on Wes's bed. He really loved his best friends, but they could be jerks sometimes.

The rest of the night was spent catching Blaine up on what he missed at the party downstairs and then reminiscing about the all the Warbler antics of years past. By the time Blaine finally lay down on Wes and David's hard floor with a pillow and blanket, the clock read 3:30 am.

He stayed awake for a little while longer after his friends' snores filled the room. His mind wandered first to Ollie, musing about whether or not he was warm enough and if Sebastian had remembered to put Goober the stuffed rabbit in his crib with him.

Then, as he slipped farther toward unconsciousness, he thought of Kurt. A small smile came across his face when he remembered the way his long eyelashes had fluttered against his pale skin. He thought about how gorgeous the new boy must look when he was asleep. Angelic, probably. A small shiver ran over Blaine's back when he remembered that Kurt was just on the other side of the wall.

Then he kind of hated himself for letting his tired thoughts become so creepy and stalker-esque.

He rolled over on the floor, making sure he was facing away from the wall shared with Kurt's room, and released a sigh. He closed his eyes and tried to let sleep come.

As he finally drifted off, he let himself hope Kurt liked him as much as he liked him. He thought about everything he had at stake with the new boy, and he hoped his friends wouldn't spill the beans about him. He didn't want to let himself imagine things going anywhere with Kurt; he knew it was the surest way to set up heartbreak. But he couldn't stop the tiny smile from returning to his lips when he imagined himself with Kurt: holding his hand, kissing his smooth cheek, kissing him other places...

Shit. Maybe he was a normal teenager after all.

His last conscious thoughts were of blue eyes and song lyrics: _"While our blood's still young… It's so young it runs…"_

Blaine's iPhone alarm blared loud and clear at eight a.m. and, hope as he might, throwing it across the room did not actually succeed in shutting the thing up. He got up and groggily retrieved the device, thankful he hadn't actually damaged it but not sorry for his actions. 'Four hours of sleep' and 'seventeen-year-old boy' were terms that simply did not mix.

He'd promised his dad he'd be ready to start reconstruction on the bathroom at nine a.m. sharp, so he set about gathering his stuff and getting ready to go home. He didn't bother waking Wes and David to say goodbye. He knew that would probably just end in a black eye for him anyway.

He made sure he sent Kurt a quick text before he drove off, just to let him know he hadn't forgotten about him. Because he _definitely_ hadn't forgotten about him.

_Hey Kurt. This is Blaine. I talked to Wes and David (head Warblers and your next door neighbors) and they said you're more than welcome to grab lunch with them today. – Blaine_

Blaine had barely made it outside before his phone chimed with a response. He couldn't help but let out a little laugh. He thought there would be no way Kurt would be up this early on a Saturday, but there he was.

_Thanks! Wow, look at me now, sitting with the rock-star Warblers on my first day! – Kurt_

Blaine chuckled at the text before typing out a reply.

_Well, they say it's all about who you know ;) – Blaine_

He got into his car and turned on the defroster. Another response came while he waited for his windows to unfog.

_Haha then I'm really glad it was you who stumbled into my room last night – Kurt_

Blaine smiled and typed out one more text before he started driving.

_Me too __ Wes will probably knock on your door sometime this morning. I hope you enjoy my friends, ha - Blaine_

He pulled back into the Anderson driveway a few minutes later. His dad was already up and reading the newspaper at the kitchen island when he entered.

"Morning, Blaine," Mr. Anderson said, reaching for his coffee mug.

"Hey, Dad," he replied. He let out an enormous yawn as he removed his coat.

Mr. Anderson peered over his reading glasses at his youngest child. "Long night?" he asked. It didn't seem like he was even trying to hide how patronizing he sounded.

"We stayed up pretty late, yeah." Blaine came into the kitchen and started to pour a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. "The performance was great, though. Probably my best one yet," he tried, thinking that maybe, since today was about bonding, his dad might _pretend_ to care _a little bit_ about his passions. Maybe Cooper Sr. would actually come back with a follow-up question. Like, _oh, really? What song did you sing? _Or even a neutral remark like _that's nice, Blaine_.

"Mmhm," his father grunted, sounding bored. "I hope you're not too tired to lay some tile with the old man."

Shot down. A complete change of subject, just like always. _Well_, Blaine thought, _it was worth a try_. He forced a small smile before plunging a spoon into the cereal. "Of course not, Dad."

The rest of the day passed pretty similarly. Just a blur of 'hmm's and nods as his father went on and on about how when he was _Blaine's_ age, he'd already accomplished this, that, and the other thing. And wasn't it amazing how well _Cooper_ was doing out in Hollywood? How _Cooper's_ really got his head on straight, all of which Blaine translated to mean, _why can't you be more like me and your perfect brother?_

Then, of course, there were the subtle (not-so-subtle) nudges and hints about Sebastian. Like, "I think I might ask him to play a round of golf with me again when it gets warmer outside. He really has grown up a lot in these past two years. Now he's really becoming a model of respectability for your generation, Blaine."

To which Blaine had really almost replied, _then why don't you marry him, Dad?_ But instead, he just rolled his eyes at the wall and concentrated on laying the new Italian tile in the mortar.

And then came his father's terribly awkward attempt at a segue into bringing up the fact that the Westerville Country Club had just had a cancellation in early June, and wouldn't that be such a nice place for a wedding reception?

It was at that point that Blaine was able to cleverly conceal an earbud from his iPod in his ear. The rest of the day was more tolerable after that.

Except for the nagging worry at the back of his brain. All day, the part of Blaine's mind that wasn't occupied with biting back snarky comments at his dad was busy worrying about how was Kurt was faring with the Warblers. Or rather, how the Warblers were faring with Kurt. Had anyone spilled the beans yet? Should he be expecting an angry I-can't-believe-you-lied-don't-ever-talk-to-me-again-you-creep text?

It was six before his dad finally told him they were done for the day, and Blaine's anxiety over whether or not his secret was safe was now dominating his thoughts. No one had tried to contact him all day, so he really had no idea where he stood. Before changing out of his mortar-stained, dusty work outfit, he shot Wes a text.

_How'd it go today? – Blaine_

A minute (which felt like an hour) later, his phone chimed with the response.

_Good dude. Kurt is really cool. I think he'll fit into the Warblers great. Why didn't you tell me he's a countertenor?! Do you know how many possibilities this opens up for new vocal arrangements? –Wes_

Blaine rolled his eyes at the text. Leave it to Wes to make every situation about the Warblers.

_That's great Wes. No one told him about Oliver? – Blaine_

Another long minute.

_Don't worry, bro. Your secret is safe. I called an emergency Warbler meeting and told the guys to keep your personal details on the DL. You'll be glad to know David has named the whole thing 'Operation RBBB' (Relieve Blaine's Blue Balls) ;) But it wasn't actually that hard to keep quiet. Contrary to what you may believe, our conversations don't always have to revolve around you and your drama :P – Wes_

Blaine rolled his eyes at David's code name and then let out an audible sigh of relief.

_Thank you thank you thank you. I owe all you guys. -Blaine_

_Don't worry about it. You'd better tell him soon though. We can only avoid suspicions for so long. -Wes_

Blaine flopped facedown on his bed. He knew Wes was right. He knew that his friends would not be able to fight off Kurt's curiosity about him forever. He lay on the bed for a minute, contemplating the tangled web he was weaving and growing more and more anxious about his impending meeting with Kurt tomorrow. Then his mother called him down for dinner, so he dragged himself up, changed out of his dirty work clothes, and headed downstairs.

He returned to his room twenty minutes later to find a missed text.

_You mind if we FaceTime a little early? Ollie's beat and I think I'm going to put him down for the night. – Seb_

Blaine glanced at the time and figured why not? He wasn't doing anything else and he was still missing his baby like crazy. He'd felt that ache of separation itching in his chest all day.

_Sure, but I'm home so let's Skype. - Blaine_

He crossed his room to his desk and opened up his laptop. Talking on the computer was always a lot easier than holding a phone at arms length from his face.

Two minutes later, the image of his ex sitting with his sleepy-eyed son in his lap came onto the screen.

"Hey, Buddy!" he said cheerfully, causing Ollie to tilt his quizzically at the screen before a look of excited recognition came over his face. The usually chipper little boy didn't say anything, though. Merely smiled and rested his curly head back on Sebastian's chest.

"He's exhausted," Sebastian explained. "He was a ball of energy all day. Wouldn't sit still for two seconds and just cried for half an hour when I tried to put him down for a nap."

Blaine's eyes shifted up to his ex as he spoke. Sebastian's green eyes looked almost just as sleepy as Ollie's from behind his black-rimmed glasses. He was also clad in a white T-shirt that Blaine knew was his usual lounge attire.

"Yeah he's been fighting the naps lately. I think the terrible twos might be coming early."

Sebastian nodded and then yawned.

"Glasses, huh?" said Blaine, knowing also that Sebastian only wore the frames when he was about to go to bed. "He wore you out pretty well too, then?"

Sebastian just sighed. "Yeah, he did. Sometimes I don't know how you do it everyday, Bee."

Blaine's eyes widened. Had Sebastian just complimented him? He couldn't remember the last time his ex had given him a sincere compliment that had noting to do with his ass. It made sense, though, he supposed. Sebastian always did get a little nicer when he was tired.

Blaine just put on a small smile, glad that it seemed like Sebastian wouldn't be totally insufferable tonight. "Yeah, well, you get used to it, I guess. And you learn to sleep when he sleeps."

The tiniest half-smile came across Sebastian's face. The he glanced down at Oliver, who had been uncharacteristically still and silent in his lap. "Speaking of which, he's practically out."

"Yeah, he's dozing," Blaine agreed, watching as Ollie's head drooped and he brought it back abruptly. "Did you have a good day, Ollie?" he tried, hoping he would get some interaction with the baby before he fell asleep.

The boy's eyes fluttered open at the question, but he still didn't answer. Instead he just turned in Sebastian's lap and nuzzled into him, bringing his thumb to his mouth and relaxing into the comfy pillow that was his Papa.

Even though he was a little disappointed the he didn't get an answer, Blaine chuckled at the action just because it was so darn cute. "I see how it is," he joked.

"Yeah, I don't think you're getting anything else out of him tonight," Sebastian commented, wrapping an arm protectively around the toddler as he nodded of.

Blaine couldn't help the fact that his heart melted just a little at the action. Normally, Blaine would feel a pang of jealousy at the fact that his son was cuddled up with anyone else but himself, but there was something about seeing Sebastian act so caring that always got to him. It was these rare glimpses into his good side that reminded Blaine why he had loved Sebastian once. If it was this caring guy that was around all the time - rather than the cocky, self-righteous douche that so often liked to rear its ugly head - then maybe Blaine actually would consider settling down with him.

"Well, thanks for calling me anyway. I really miss him when he's gone, you know."

"Yeah, I know," Sebastian replied. "You always make sure I hear about it. Thanks for not harassing me with a million worried texts last night like usual, by the way. Maybe I should get the Warblers to distract you form your helicopter parent tendencies more often when I have him."

And the small smile on Blaine's lips disappeared. He wasn't altogether sure if Sebastian was joking with that comment or what. It didn't feel as biting as his usual digs at him, but Blaine knew that subtlety might as well have been Sebastian's middle name. Blaine just sighed. So, tired Sebastian did still have his claws after all.

"Yeah, maybe," he replied stiffly, putting his guard back up. He figured he'd better end this conversation soon before it did digress into a full-blown argument like usual. "I'll let you go so you can put him in bed. Kiss his goodnight for me," he said, glad that this time Sebastian had clearly heard his request.

Sebastian let out a sigh and muttered something that sounded like "Ialwaysdo."

"What?" Blaine asked, not sure he'd heard correctly.

"Nothing," Sebastian said, resuming his typical bored-sounding tone. Then he brought the arm that wasn't wrapped around Ollie up to the mouse of the computer he was at. "Goodnight, Blaine. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Uh, okay. Night," he replied, still feeling confused about the utterance and surprised at how relatively non-incendiary they had kept that conversation.

Sebastian clicked the hang-up button and the video box went blank. Blaine sat in silence for few minutes, still in shock that Sebastian had managed to keep the snarkiness down to just one vaguely insulting comment. _Maybe I should just try to make sure I only interact with him when he's tired from now on_, he mused.

His phone buzzed again next to him. He reached out to grab it, expecting it to be some kind of smartass text from Sebastian since he'd apparently forgotten to be horrible earlier. A smile immediately burst out on his face, though, when he saw that it wasn't.

It was incoming call. From Kurt.

Blaine bolted upright in his chair, heart suddenly pounding hard, and took a deep, calming breath before he answered.

"Hello?"

"Hi Blaine," came Kurt's musical voice on the other end. "This is Kurt."

"Hi!" Blaine replied, perhaps a bit to eagerly. He cleared his throat and tried to sound markedly calmer when he continued. "I mean, hey. Um, how are you?"

He heard Kurt chuckle softly. "I'm fine. How are you?

"I'm okay. Uh, no complaints, I guess. What's up?"

"I just wanted to call and thank you for telling your friends to tolerate me today. They were really great," said Kurt, the genuine thankfulness apparent in his tone.

"Oh, don't mention it. They were happy to have you."

"Really?"

"Yeah, totally. Wes told me so."

"Oh, good."

Blaine smiled into the phone at Kurt's relieved tone. He was cute when he seemed a little nervous. Kurt's way of somehow seeming adorably nervous yet entirely in control at the same time was definitely one of the more attractive things Blaine had seen in his life. Even though the phone.

"He's also super excited to have a potential countertenor for the Warblers," Blaine added. "You didn't tell me that was your vocal range."

Kurt laughed. "Did I need to? I thought that was pretty obvious. I sound prepubescent."

Blaine chuckled. "No you don't. You sound perfect." The words were out before he realized what he'd said.

Kurt was silent.

Blaine scrambled. "No, I didn't mean like… Oh god that came out wrong. I just meant… I like your voice. It's nice," he concluded, wanting to take a step back and slap himself in the face. "I'm sorry…"

"Blaine," Kurt cut him off. His tone sounded amused. "It's okay. I can take a compliment when I hear one."

Blaine smiled warmly, but still felt embarrassed for the slip-up. "Okay. I meant it then. You have a really nice voice."

"Thank you. Yours isn't too bad either, Blaine Anderson Warbler."

Blaine laughed. "Thanks. Maybe I'll get to hear _you_ sing sometime."

"Maybe. If you're lucky."

"Hey, you heard _me_ sing. I think it's only fair. I showed you mine, now you show me yours, Hummel. That's how it works."

Kurt laughed his musical laugh again. "I'll think about it," he replied teasingly.

They kept talking for hours. But it didn't feel like it. It wasn't the strained, awkward, or hostile conversation Blaine was used to with pretty much everyone he talked with. They talked about everything, starting with all the Warblers that Kurt met today and then moving on to the classes and teachers at Dalton. From there the conversation somehow escalated into a series of retellings of the most epic performances their respective glee clubs had performed. Kurt complained that most of his would have been a lot more epic if he were awarded the solos over some girl named Rachel Berry.

Kurt was easy to talk to, and even more easy to listen to. At one point Blaine found himself just getting lost in the sound of Kurt's (totally not prepubescent sounding) voice and the fact that this gorgeous, intriguing guy was actually interested in talking to_ him_.

The conversation didn't pause or even slow until Blaine was lying on his bed and staring at his ceiling as Kurt twittered on about how outraged he was that the latest Vogue issue had declared jean-jackets out of style.

"I'm sorry, I'm rambling. I'm boring you, aren't I?" Kurt asked after he'd let out the brunt of his frustration.

Blaine laughed softly at the other boy's unnecessary self-consciousness. "No, not at all. I totally agree about the denim jackets. It's a travesty," he replied.

"Thank you! When they're done right, and aren't over the top like my step-mom used to wear, they can be the perfect neutral complement to an outfit! It's so good to know that I don't stand alone on this issue."

"Of course not. I'm sure a lot of people feel the same way. Maybe you should write a letter to the editor or something," Blaine suggested jokingly.

"Are you teasing me?" Kurt countered. "Because I'll have you know that I actually have written several letters to the editor of Vogue in the past. They have yet to respond."

Blaine laughed again, not even really surprised that Kurt would do such a thing. "Then that's their loss, I'm sure," he said. "You'll probably end up running that magazine one day and then they'll feel pretty stupid."

"That's what I say," Kurt agreed amusedly.

Blaine was shocked that when he finally looked over at his grandfather's pocket watch lying open on his bedside table; it was going on one o' clock in the morning.

"Oh my god, Kurt. It's one a.m.," he said.

Kurt laughed on the other end of the phone line. "Oh, wow. What do you know? It is."

"The time ran away again. How does this keep happening to us?"

"I don't know," Kurt replied, his voice beginning to sound a bit slower and deeper, betraying his tiredness. "I really did just call to thank you. I didn't mean to shanghai you into talking to me for the whole night."

"Don't apologize, Kurt. If I wanted to stop, I would have stopped."

"Oh, okay," he answered, clearly relieved.

Blaine had only seen Kurt in the flesh for one night, but he had no trouble picturing the adorable blush that was probably creeping across the other boy's pale cheekbones at that moment.

"Um, do you want to stop now?" Kurt asked, voice laced with trepidation.

"No, not really," he answered honestly, "but we probably should."

Kurt let out a sigh at that. It seemed full of disappointment and longing, but maybe Blaine was just projecting his own feelings onto it. And for a moment, he wished he could just crawl into Kurt's mind and see what he was thinking. See if he was just as nervous and apprehensive and excited as he was.

"Yeah. I guess you're right. But we can pick up again tomorrow, right? Are we still on for coffee?"

Blaine couldn't hold back the triumphant smile that came over him at the question. "Absolutely," he said. "The place is called Joehouse and it's just down the block from Dalton. Do you want to meet there around noon?"

"Noon sounds great."

"Okay. Awesome. I'll see you there, then?"

"Yes. Oh, and, Blaine?"

"Yeah?"

Kurt paused. Blaine could just picture him biting his lip nervously. "Not to be creepy or anything, but we've been getting along so well and I just wanted to ask and make sure… Is tomorrow a date?"

Blaine smiled warmly. "You're not creepy, Kurt. And yes. I would love to make it a date… If you want it be, that is."

"I appreciate your humoring me, and yes, I do."

Blaine laughed. "Okay. Then it's a date."

"Perfect. I'll see you tomorrow, Blaine."

"Tomorrow. Goodnight, Kurt."

"Night."

Blaine pressed the "End Call" button and collapsed back into his pillows, dopey grin fully intact. He let himself revel in the relief and excitement for a while. Relief over the fact that for the time being, his secret was still safe and excitement over the fact that he would be seeing the gorgeous, interesting, intriguing Kurt Hummel again tomorrow. And that he flirted with him. And that he wanted to make their coffee outing a date. Blaine had a _date_ with Kurt Hummel.

His spirits stayed high all night; even to the point that when he stood up to change into pajamas, he let himself do a little happy dance. The kind warmth he'd felt fill his chest when Kurt had first flirted with him in his room came back as he readied himself for bed, and he even caught himself humming "Teenage Dream" into his bathroom mirror.

Later, Blaine nodded off to sleep with the excited warmth still high in his chest.

**I am so sorry this took so long! I'll tell you what happened. What happened was, I actually had most of this story all written, but I just was not satisfied with it at all. And then when I went back and reread the whole thing I finally realized it was because it was totally and completely BORING! Like, seriously, nothing happened at all and it was awful. So, I started over and really tried to amp up the drama, the humor, everything. I am much happier with it thus far. **

**Thank you all so much for your patience as well as your kind words of feedback. I'm really in love with this story and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. **

**- Brads**


	5. Chapter 5

5

The next morning, Blaine's bedroom was a blur of color and fabric as he searched for the perfect outfit to wear to the coffee shop. After trying on practically every item he owned, he ended up back in the first outfit he'd picked: dark, fitted jeans, a striped T-shirt and a red maroon cardigan over top. He tried not to think about the fact that Sebastian had once told him he loved that sweater on him.

Blaine had hoped that he'd just be able to tip-toe out of his house unnoticed so he wouldn't have to explain to anyone where he was going. He didn't know how his parents would react if he had to tell them he was going on a date… Well, he knew how his dad would react – badly, very badly – and that was enough to make him want to avoid the whole ordeal.

So, when 11:30 came around, he slipped as silently as he could out of his room and downstairs, narrowly avoiding his dad in his office at the bottom of the stairs. He padded quickly through the kitchen and picked his keys off their designated hook by the garage door. With his hand on the door handle, he thought he'd made it home free. But then he heard his mother's soft, inquisitive cough behind him and he froze.

"And where are you off to all dressed up on this fine Sunday morning?" Maria Anderson's musical voice chimed.

Blaine turned around slowly, the height of his eyebrows betraying his nerves at being caught. "Umm, church?" he tried.

Mrs. Anderson narrowed her eyes at her son. "Oh, so then pigs have started to fly, have they?"

He gulped. "Yes?"

His mother just smiled and crossed her arms. "Want to try that answer again?"

He dropped the phony grin. "I'm just going to Joehouse to meet a friend."

"Hanging with the Warblers again? Didn't you just spend a whole night with all those goofballs?"

Blaine let his hand retract from the garage door handle. "Mom, I know it's been a while since you experienced it, but sometimes it's normal for teenagers to see their friends more often than just once a month or so."

Mrs. Anderson rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Of course. You're right."

"And the guy I'm meeting there isn't a Warbler. Well, not yet anyway. He's new. You don't know him."

She raised an eyebrow at her son. "Oh? Would this almost-Warbler-guy-I-don't-know be the same one you were talking to on the phone last night?"

Blaine's eyes bugged. "Oh, um, you heard that?"

She nodded, a knowing smile growing on her face. "Your bedroom door is very thin, Blaine."

Blaine scoffed. "Eavesdropper."

Mrs. Anderson just shrugged. "You're my son. I think I'm allowed eavesdropping privileges every once in a while. You'll understand when Ollie's old enough to have secrets."

"But Mom…"

"Relax, Sweetheart. I didn't hear anything. Just noticed that you were talking for quite a while."

Blaine dropped his eyes to the floor and shifted his weight between his feet, squirming under his mother's knowing gaze. He knew she probably didn't mean to sound accusing, but he couldn't help but feel somehow guilty. He'd never talked on the phone with a guy who wasn't Sebastian or just a close friend for longer than five minutes in his life. Was it okay to start now? Blaine had no idea where his mom would stand on him becoming romantically involved with anyone new. Maybe if he could just explain that Kurt wasn't just some teenage predator out to impregnate her youngest child again…

"Yeah, well he called me to say thanks for hooking him up with the guys and then we just started talking and he's just so easy to talk to…"

"Blaine, baby," his mother cut in.

He looked back up at her.

She took a step toward him. "It's okay. You don't have to explain."

"I don't?"

She put her hand on his shoulder lovingly. "No. I'm not clueless. I think I can tell when my son is infatuated."

Blaine nodded, feeling a bit embarrassed by this point.

"And today at Joehouse is a date?"

Another nod.

Mrs. Anderson smiled sweetly, rubbing her son's shoulder. "Okay, Sweetheart. Have fun." She retracted her hand and turned back toward the kitchen.

Blaine's eyebrows immediately furrowed in confusion. "Wait, what?"

She turned back to face him again. "Have fun on your date," she repeated.

"I…you… I'm allowed to go?" he asked, totally perplexed by his mother's nonchalance.

Her knowing smile was firmly back in place. "Blaine, you're practically an adult. You're a father, for godsake. You can make these decisions for yourself. You don't need your mommy dictating your dates, do you?"

"Well, no, but I just thought… because Dad wants me with Sebastian…"

"Hey, remember that time I risked life and limb to talk your dad out of making you get married?"

"Yes," Blaine replied solemnly.

"Did I do that for nothing? Would you like to go through with that plan? Because we still have the planner's number and about 200 wedding announcements printed up in a box somewhere. We could get them out and call the Smythes up right now…"

"No," Blaine interjected, getting the point. "No, Mom. You didn't do it for nothing."

She smirked. "Then go have fun on your date."

A small smile finally crept onto Blaine's face. No one understood him like his mother. "Thanks, Mom." He approached her and planted a kiss on her cheek. "You're the best."

"I know. And just make sure you're back by the time Sebastian gets here with Ollie."

He cringed slightly at the reminder of having to deal with his ex later. "I will." He turned for the garage door again, but she grabbed his arm gently.

"And be careful, love. You have more than just yourself to look out for."

"I know, Mom. I will be. I promise." He slipped out the door.

Although his mother's approval had instilled a new sense of assurance in Blaine and he was feeling calm and collected when he left the house, by the time he pulled into the parking lot at Joehouse, he had somehow managed to completely disintegrate into a mess of self-doubts and sweaty palms. He suddenly had no idea what he was doing there. Why on earth did he think it was okay for him, Blaine Teenage Dad Anderson, to be meeting a cute, interesting guy for coffee? Even worse, make that a cute, interesting guy that he'd straight_ lied_ to two days before.

It was just made all the worse by the knowledge that this date would be perfect. How could it not be? He and Kurt obviously got along incredibly easily and every time they talked it made hours seem like minutes. He knew he would have to tell Kurt about Ollie today. There would just be no getting around it any more. And that was what was making him dread walking through the door of the coffee shop. All he could do was hope, with every fiber of his being, that Kurt wouldn't cause too big a scene when he ran away screaming.

As he watched the snow fall and gather on his windshield, he ran his fingers lightly over the engraving on the back of his grandfather's pocket watch. He looked down at the little golden device and flipped it over, reading over the single word inscribed there once more.

_Courage._

Blaine still remembered vividly the day his grandfather had given him the pocket watch. It had been the July right before Ollie was born when the old man was on his deathbed in the guest suite of their house. Blaine had been reading to his grandfather all morning, balancing the copy of _The Hobbit_ gingerly on top of his swollen, eight months pregnant belly. When he suddenly told him to stop reading, Blaine had looked up to find the man staring back at him, looking pensive.

Carter Mauricio Dimaguiba always looked pensive. His austere, impenetrable face never betrayed an inkling of what the man was thinking. His whole life, Blaine had never once been able to tell what could possibly be going through that man's mind. He didn't know what his grandfather thought when his parents told him he way gay, he didn't know what he thought when he said he wanted to teach music, and he was absolutely clueless as to what the meditative old man thought of him now that he'd gone and gotten himself knocked-up. He assumed he didn't like it much, though. His grandfather had not said one word to Blaine about it since he'd come to live with them that April. And now that his health had deteriorated so far, Blaine didn't think he ever would.

So he was shocked when the tired old man gently called him over to the bed, reached under his pillow, and handed Blaine the gold watch.

"Courage?" Blaine had asked, raising an eyebrow at the fresh inscription on the old watch

His grandfather only nodded, but his stone face seemed to soften just slightly. "Blaine," said in his tired voice. "I know it won't be easy for you." He raised a wrinkled hand and placed it gingerly on the swell of Blaine's belly. "But have courage, my boy. This baby will need you to."

Blaine stared back his mother's father. "Grandpa…" he began, suddenly overwhelmed by the unexpected gift and encouragement.

"The ideal man bears the accidents of life with dignity and grace, making the best of circumstances," his grandfather said, his wrinkled, wise eyes meeting Blaine's youthful, inquisitive ones. "Aristotle," he clarified.

Blaine only smiled in response, tears welling up as he watched a similar smile curl up on the old man's face. "I'll try."

"I know you will. And I know you'll be an excellent father, Blaine."

Now holding back a full-on sob, Blaine couldn't stop himself from leaning down and hugging the frail old man, as best as his cumbersome belly would allow.

"Thank you, Grandpa. I'll make you proud. I promise. I love you."

His grandfather patted Blaine's shoulder as he hugged him. "I love you too, my boy," he whispered into his ear.

That was the first and last time Carter Dimaguiba told Blaine he loved him. He died the next day in his sleep.

Now, still watching the snow pile on his windshield, Blaine pushed the memory from his mind and returned the watch to his pocket.

_Well, shit. This is going to be a total disaster,_ Blaine thought as he exited his car and walked through the falling snow toward the building.

Kurt was nowhere to be found in the mildly busy coffee shop when Blaine entered. After waiting at an empty table for two minutes, Blaine very nearly decided to get up and leave. It would be better for everyone involved if he just left this poor guy alone. He could just walk out the door, stand Kurt up and have him hate him forever, and then he'd never have to expose the other boy to all his drama.

Blaine very nearly made a move to stand up and leave, but froze when the bell on the front door jingled and suddenly there he was. And then, just like it had been on Friday night, Blaine knew he wasn't going anywhere.

Kurt was dressed in an expensive looking, fitted black pea coat with a knitted blue hat and matching scarf. As soon as walked through the glass doorway, he immediately set about wiping his wet boots on the rug and shaking the snowflakes off his coat. He removed the hat to reveal his somehow-still-perfectly-sculpted chestnut brown hair and began to scan the shop for Blaine.

Kurt's face lit up into an amazingly bright smile when he spotted him and walked toward him.

Blaine gulped as soon as Kurt's blue eyes landed on him. Even from across the room, he could see how much Kurt's blue scarf made his eyes pop. When the graceful teen stared to make his way over to him, Blaine's brain finally kicked back into gear and he realized he should probably do something other than sit there and gawk.

He got to his feet right as Kurt approached the table.

"Hi, Blaine," Kurt said with enthusiasm that matched his grin. He opened his arms invitingly and Blaine, after standing in a daze for second, caught on and slid into them for an unexpected 'hello' hug.

Blaine's mind reeled as he took in that amazing Kurt smell once again. Goosebumps flared all over his body when he felt Kurt's hand rub gently down his back.

"Hey," he replied simply. Or maybe that was the only coherent word he could muster right then.

They parted and Kurt's eyes swept over the shorter boy. "I love your hair today," he commented, returning his gaze to Blaine's face. "It looks different with less gel in it. So curly!"

Blaine could feel his cheeks burning already. "Oh, thanks. Yeah, it's pretty out of control if I don't gel it at least a little."

"Oh, no. I bet it's cute," he answered sweetly. Then he set about unbuttoning his coat.

"Um, did you have any trouble finding the place?" Blaine asked, trying to sound less flustered than he felt.

"No, not at all," Kurt said in a friendly tone as he unfastened his last button. "Wes actually told me about the shortcut through the alley, so it was no problem."

Blaine smirked. "That sounds like Wes, always trying to be helpful."

Kurt chuckled. "Yeah, and David told me to tell you something about Operation R-B-B-B still being in effect?" he said with an intrigued eyebrow raised. "Any idea what that means?"

Blaine immediately felt himself blush as he fought to keep the look of horror off his face. Damn his smartass friends and their stupid code names. "None whatsoever," he said hurriedly, trying to gloss over the topic. He would have words with David later.

By now Kurt was trying to shrug his way out of his coat, but the garment was being rather uncooperative and not letting him pull his arms out of it.

"Here, let me help you with that," Blaine said, stepping forward and helping to ease the coat back off Kurt's broad shoulders.

The taller boy smiled softly as Blaine took his coat. "Thank you," he said.

Blaine noticed that Kurt's cheeks were tinged with pink at the gesture, but maybe that was just from adjusting from the cold outside.

"No problem," he replied as he set the stylish coat over the back of the chair opposite his own at the table. "Coffee?" Blaine asked in what he hoped was a chipper tone; although he feared it sounded a bit more like a nervous squeak.

"Yeah," Kurt said with a nod and both boys headed toward the line in front of the counter, leaving their coats to save their table.

There was moment of uneasy silence as they stood at the back of the line and stared up at the menu board. As Blaine wiped his still sweaty palms discreetly on his jeans, he racked his brain for something to say. He finally came up with:

"I'm really glad you could make it today."

Kurt smiled in response. "Me too. I'm, um, I'm glad you asked me."

"Of course," Blaine said, not sure how to continue. He redirected his eyes back to the menu board, even thought he already knew exactly what he wanted to order.

"Uh, how was your morning?" he tried. It wasn't the smoothest of questions, but at least it might spark a conversation.

"It was really good actually," Kurt replied with surprising enthusiasm. "Wes and David and Jeff all came knocking on my door bright and early and dragged me off to play Rock Band and eat pancakes with them in the Commons."

Blaine laughed. That sounded like the kind of absurd plan his friends would cook up for a Sunday morning.

"But I suspect the invitation was just a ploy so they could hear me sing," Kurt continued.

Blaine exaggerated a scoff. "So they got to hear you sing before I did?"

Kurt shrugged innocently. "I'm afraid so."

"Those sneaky bastards."

Kurt let out a laugh at that. "I don't know about sneaky. They were being pretty obvious. I mean, not letting me play any other part but the singer for four songs straight was a bit of a giveaway."

Blaine chuckled again and was about to respond when the barista's voice interjected.

"Can I help you?"

Blaine stepped up to the register. "Yes, I'll have medium drip and whatever he's having is on me," he said, gesturing toward Kurt.

Kurt took on a slightly horrified expression. "No, Blaine, please. I should pay."

"Nonsense," he replied, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet.

"But you've already been so nice and helpful, I want to be able to pay you back…"

"Kurt, don't be silly. You agreeing to meet me for coffee today is enough. Now, I invited you out, so I'll pay. I insist."

Kurt's expression softened and the two melted into a mini-staring contest with dopey grins, causing the barista to have to clear her throat in order to snap them out of it.

"Alright, if you insist," said Kurt, stepping up to the register.

"I do," Blaine confirmed.

"Then I'll have a grande non-fat mocha, please. With no whip and a stick of cinnamon."

"And one of those chocolate muffins to share, please," Blaine added over his shoulder, causing Kurt to glare at him playfully.

"You trying to fatten me up, Anderson?"

Blaine took this an opportunity to let his eyes sweep over Kurt's body, admiring just how skinny his black skinny jeans were and finding it hard to believe that there would be anything hiding under Kurt's loose-fitting, wide-necked sweater for him to be self-conscious about.

"I'm afraid I have to insist about the muffin too. Trust me, you won't be sorry," he told Kurt, who just sighed overdramatically and conceded.

Truth be told, the Joehouse chocolate muffins were pretty much Blaine's weakness. When he was pregnant with Ollie, he had a phase where he craved them with Doritos. He would mash the muffin to bits and then scoop it up with the chips, much to the horror of his friends and family. Now he could do without the Doritos addition, but he just hadn't been able to get off the muffins ever since. Getting to share one with Kurt would just be a plus.

"Seven seventy-five," the barista said.

Blaine paid and got his change, and the turned back around to face Kurt. He could have sworn he saw the taller teen's eyes dart away from his backside, but that could have just been his imagination.

But as the two returned to their table, drinks and muffin in hand, Blaine couldn't help but notice Kurt looking him up and down some more through the corner of his eye.

"I love your cardigan," Kurt finally commented. "Maroon is a great color for you."

The flirt-induced warmth bubbled up once again in Blaine's chest. He made a mental note that he really had to thank Grandma Anderson for this sweater.

"Thank you," he said as they took their seats at the table. "It's one of my favorites but I don't get many occasions to wear it."

Kurt grinned. "Well I'm glad I could accommodate your fashion choice."

Blaine laughed. "Me too."

Of course, the conversation flowed easily from there. Blaine felt like his attempts at flirting (both intentional and unintentional) were being well received and that Kurt seemed comfortable too. He was just as interesting, effortlessly funny, and easy-going as always. And he was winning Blaine over more and more with each passing second.

It wasn't until the muffin was completely gone and they were halfway through their first refills that the conversation started to tread on dangerous ground.

He didn't know how it happened. Thinking back over it in his head, Blaine had no idea how the conversation had somehow turned to that point. But regardless of how the topic came up, there he sat, trying to fight off the obvious look of panic on his face at Kurt's question.

"Blaine?" Kurt asked, clearly concerned. "Blaine, did you hear what I asked?"

Blaine blinked hard and tried to snap himself out of his horrified daze. "Um, I- I'm sorry. What did you say?" he said, hoping he'd just heard Kurt wrong.

"I asked if you think you'd ever want to have kids someday."

Nope. He hadn't misheard. Blaine felt his eyes widen, and he tried to suppress the growing panic rising up in his chest. Although he knew he would obviously have to let the I-have-a-baby cat out of the bag soon, he still didn't think he could get the words past his lips just yet.

_Not yet. Just see how it goes and maybe a good time will present itself_, Blaine told himself, even though deep down he knew there would never be a more convenient opportunity to drop a bomb like that.

"I uh, kids?" he blathered.

"Yeah. I mean…" A look of realization came over Kurt's face. "Oh, god! I didn't mean like, with _me_ or anything… Just like, in general. I'm sorry. I didn't even think about how that sounded."

Blaine let out a nervous laugh. "It's okay…yeah. I mean, maybe in the future, yeah. Like _way_ in the future," he replied, mentally kicking himself for not manning-up and just _saying it_ already.

Kurt tilted his head inquisitively. "How far in the future are we talking?"

Blaine swallowed hard. He couldn't really believe Kurt was asking him this on a first date. Not to mention that the thought of having any more kids was literally the farthest thing from his mind in the entire universe. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe late thirties or even forties?"

Kurt's eyes widened at that. "Really? That long?"

"Yeah, well, it's hard to have kids young, you know? You have to give up so much and your life is just never the same after. It changes absolutely _everything_," Blaine replied, knowing Kurt had no idea just how much emphasis he meant in the word _everything_.

Kurt just smiled and shook his head. "I want kids while I'm still young," he said, sounding completely confident. "My parents had me when they were both just eighteen."

"Really?" Blaine asked, genuinely intrigued.

Kurt nodded his head in reply.

Blaine's mind was immediately abuzz with what kind of possibilities this opened up. If Kurt had come from teenage parents, then he was obviously no stranger to the concept. And all this talk about wanting to be a young parent? Maybe he wouldn't be as freaked out by Oliver as Blaine had initially suspected any other teenager to be.

"And to this day, my dad says he wouldn't change that fact for anything. And I loved growing up with parents closer to my own age. You're just closer generation-wise so it's always easy to talk and I don't know, my dad just gets me, you know? I want to be able to be like that with my kids too."

Blaine nodded, feeling a little bit overwhelmed by the amount of unsolicited insights he was getting into Kurt's views on parenting. "Umm," he began, feeling nervous about his next question's implications, even though Kurt would still be unaware of the full connotations. "Exactly how soon do you want kids?"

With no hesitation, Kurt answered, "Like, as soon I'm settled down I want to get the process going. Whatever that process ends up being." He paused and laughed.

Blaine raised his eyebrows even farther.

"Sometimes I wish I was a carrier. So I could just have my own, you know?"

At that statement, something snapped inside Blaine. "Don't say that," he retorted.

Kurt's expression melted at the harsh remark. "Why not?"

"Because male pregnancy isn't all it's cracked up to be. Just because a man is a carrier doesn't necessarily mean his body is ideal for bearing children. It's a really grueling, really painful, sometimes dangerous process and it's nothing to take lightly. It's certainly not something anyone should wish for."

Kurt looked taken aback at Blaine's outburst. His eyes were blown wider than ever and his mouth hung agape. "Oh, right. Of course," he began, obviously jolted, "I didn't mean to insinuate it would be easy or anything, I was just talking, really. There are a lot of men who give birth and everything's just fine. I just… I just think the idea is so beautiful, you know? Having a life grow inside you like that?"

Kurt shot Blaine an optimistic look, clearly hoping that he'd salvaged his infringement on the obviously sensitive subject.

And then Blaine wanted to kick himself for sounding so damn insensitive. Of course Kurt was right. The idea of conceiving and carrying one's own child was a truly beautiful, miraculous thing and Blaine didn't regret doing it with Ollie for a moment. He wasn't even completely averse to doing it again someday, but he would be definitely be lying if he said it was a totally pleasant experience. It was painful in more ways than one. His body didn't support the extra weight around his middle as well as a woman's would, which made him prone to awful back spasms throughout his final trimester. Then there was the development of the birth canal, which sent near constant flashes of pain through his pelvis for months. And then there was the actual birth, for which his slim hips were painfully (literally, _painfully_) ill equipped. No, being a carrier certainly was not all it was cracked up to be.

But Kurt didn't know that. Nor did he need to hear it from Blaine right now. Right now, Blaine needed to calm down and breathe; to remember he was on a date with an amazing guy and stop acting like a jerk.

"You're right. It really is an awesome thing. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap. I just… know a few carriers, that's all. They say it's painful." Blaine wanted to face-palm for the unexpected lie that had just tumbled out of his mouth.

_You know a few carriers? God, Anderson, what the hell is the matter with you? _he silently scolded.

"Thant's okay," Kurt said kindly, optimistic smile not fading. "Sorry to bring it up. I know it's a weird first date topic. I didn't realize until I'd already said it. Let's change the subject, huh?"

Blaine nodded his agreement, immeasurably grateful that they were moving the subject away from parenthood. He was sure he would have enough of that to discuss later.

"So then," Kurt asked, leaning forward over the table, "what do you _do_ all day?"

"What do you mean?"

"I've just never really known anyone who's homeschooled before. You said you have a tutor a couple times a week, but what do you do the rest of the time? I think I'd go crazy if I just had to stay home every day."

"I do a couple of different things," Blaine began vaguely, his mind scrambling for suitable things to say that didn't include childcare but that wouldn't be total lies either. "I have homework that Ms. Holiday assigns – Ms. Holiday is my tutor," he clarified. "And that takes up a good chunk of time. Um, other than that I guess I play the piano and the guitar a lot. Oh, I box or run in the afternoons most days." Blaine looked up to see what must have been Kurt's best effort at pretending to look totally fascinated by the completely boring information pouring out if his mouth. "Sometimes I volunteer in the neonatal ward of the hospital… I guess that's about it, really."

_Please don't ask why I'm homeschooled. Please don't ask why I'm homeschooled…_

Kurt's eyebrows rose with intrigue. "Really? Why the neonatal ward?"

_Because I made friends with a bunch of the nurses during the days right after I had my baby and they said I should come back and help out… _"I don't know. I guess I just like the atmosphere there. So many happy parents and families."

Kurt beamed. "Aww, see? I knew you had to think the miracle of life was more special than you let on."

Blaine laughed. "Yeah. You got me there, I guess." He took a nervous sip of his coffee. "And helping out there also looks good on college applications."

"Oh my gosh. Have you been practically killing yourself with filling those things out too? I swear, if I ever have to write another essay about my greatest role model or whatever, heads will roll."

Blaine laughed again, relieved that the conversation had veered away from dangerous territory again. "What are you planning on studying?" he asked, genuinely interested.

"Musical Theatre or Fashion Design. I'm not sure yet, so I made sure everywhere I applied had both programs."

"That's awesome. I've been applying to Music Education programs myself."

"Really? Wow, _contributing_ your talent rather than throwing it in people's faces. That sounds so much more selfless than my major." He laughed.

Blaine laughed too. He was glad when Kurt didn't mock his desired field of study. He was the only one who didn't. In fact, he'd been impressed by it. Blaine supposed that Kurt probably got a lot of criticism for Musical Theatre or Fashion as being impractical too. But that just meant that Kurt understood where he was coming from. For him, it wasn't about making money, it was about dong what he loved and sharing it with the world.

"Hey, it's not throwing it in people's faces if you're genuinely talented. It's bringing people joy, and that's what it's all about, right?"

"That's exactly right," said Kurt. "I'm so glad someone else gets that!" he added, as if reading Blaine's mind. "So, where have you applied?"

"Well I applied to schools all over the place, but I'll probably just end up at OSU."

"Why OSU if you applied all over?" Kurt asked quizzically.

_Because that's where my baby daddy goes and I'm expected to shack up with him and play the doting housewife. _"Because my parents just really want me to go there. They're alumni. You know, school pride and all that."

Kurt continued in an understanding tone. "Yeah, I'm kind of in the same boat. Not with my parents being alumni, but I'll probably go someplace close too."

"Is that what you want to do?"

Kurt sighed. "Not really. My first choice would definitely be anywhere in New York. But my dad had a heart attack earlier this year and I now feel like I probably shouldn't go too far away, you know?"

"Oh my god. Kurt, I'm so sorry."

"No, no. Nothing to be sorry for," he replied, waving off the concern. "He's alright, but I would still feel better being closer regardless. We've gotten through a lot together recently. I guess you could say it's been a big year for the Hummels."

Blaine bit his lip at the sudden somber turn the conversation had taken. He couldn't help the huge wave of sympathy he felt for Kurt. This poor guy had gone through something as traumatic as having his father be deathly ill and then he was forced out of his school and away from said father for still unknown reasons. He tried to think of a way to spin the topic back to something a little more positive.

"Well it sounds like you and your dad really must have a great relationship, then," he tried.

Kurt chuckled. "Well, yeah. We definitely do after everything that's happened recently."

"That's great," Blaine said with a grin, trying to suppress the hint of jealousy that tried to flare up. Blaine couldn't even talk to his dad about what socks to wear without sparking an argument let alone _everything_. Maybe if he could, he wouldn't be so terrified out of his mind about disappointing him at every turn. Blaine sincerely hoped that one day, his and Ollie's relationship could be like Kurt's and his dad's; that Ollie would feel like he could talk to him about anything without fear of judgment. He was glad to know that father-son relationships like that actually existed.

"Yeah," Kurt replied, "I'm really glad I have him. I mean, my step-mom and step-brother are amazing, but I just don't know what I would have done if I lost him."

Blaine nodded his understanding. "That's kind of like me and my mom. Some days I don't know what I'd do without her."

There was a silence in which Blaine could see a hint of sadness come across Kurt's face.

"How about your mom?" Blaine probed. "Are you as close with her as you are with your dad?"

The hint of sadness grew a bit more profound, but Kurt's pleasant demeanor did not fade. "Well I was when I was little, but she actually died when I was eight," he said in a surprisingly matter-of-fact tone. It was the kind of tone one uses when they've explained something a million times and have become numb to it. "Hence the step-mom and brother," he added.

Blaine's mouth fell open just slightly. He was not expecting that answer. When Kurt had mentioned step-relatives, he'd just assumed it was a divorce situation, but this reality was so much worse. He was really becoming amazed with how much Kurt had already gone through in his eighteen years, and he still felt like he didn't even know the half of it.

"Jesus, Kurt…" he began.

"No, no, don't say you're sorry. It's really okay. I've come to terms with it. Life's just not fair sometimes, you know?"

Blaine just nodded again. He certainly did know that. "I just wish you didn't have to go through that."

"Thanks. You're sweet. But, we all have our own battles."

"Yeah, definitely."

Blaine knew all too well about personal battles. Having a baby at sixteen will do that to a person. That, and then breaking up with the other father and spiraling into a sobbing mess of depression will set a person up a lifetime of battles to face.

Blaine thought about telling Kurt about these battles just then. After all, Kurt was being so open and honest with him. It was so easy to talk to Kurt and he seemed so understanding. But then Kurt spoke up again, and the thought was pushed to the back of Blaine's mind once more.

"Oh my gosh," Kurt said, straightening up slightly in his chair and massaging his temples. "I'm sorry I always end up sounding so damn broody!"

Blaine pulled on a comforting smile. "Don't worry about it. No one's life is perfect sunshine and rainbows all the time," he assured the other boy.

Kurt returned the smile thankfully and brought his hands down from his temples and rested his elbows on the table. Blaine looked at his pale fingers across the table and wondered for just a moment if it would be weird to reach over and take Kurt's hand. Before he could act, though Kurt spoke again.

"Let's move on. You mentioned the piano and the guitar, but how many instruments can you play?" He raised an intrigued eyebrow at Blaine as he took a sip of coffee.

"Well, those are my main two, but I also know my way around the violin, the trumpet, and a little bit of the drums..."

Kurt shifted in his seat as Blaine spoke, leaning forward on his elbows a bit more and boring his gorgeous eyes into the other boy. Blaine could barely hold a coherent thought as he watched the wide neck of Kurt's sweater slip off his shoulder. His eyes trailed down the side of Kurt's long, slender neck and started to roam over the pale, smooth expanse of his bare shoulder. He felt himself stop talking though, when he noticed the purple marks marring Kurt's beautiful skin at the top of his arm.

"Oh my god, Kurt!" he found himself exclaiming as he examined the marks further. They were bruises, clearly. Some still dark purple while less severe ones had faded to an ugly greenish. And they seemed to follow the pattern of a hand. A very large hand. "What happened to your shoulder?"

Kurt immediately scrambled. "Oh, umm…" he said, clearly flustered as he yanked his sweater back up to cover his bruised shoulder. "It's nothing. I just ran into a door. Clumsy. Don't worry about it." He tried to plaster on an everything-is-just-peachy smile, but Blaine didn't buy it for a second.

"No, it's clearly not nothing," he insisted. "Those are bruises. And it looks like a handprint. Did someone grab you, Kurt?"

"It's… it's really not a big deal." Kurt squirmed in his chair, now clearly trying to avoid eye contact. "Not anymore."

Before giving himself a chance to think better of it, Blaine reached his hand across the table and grabbed Kurt's pale fingers, just as he had been fantasizing about doing just before. Kurt's surprised eyes snapped back up to him at the gesture.

"You can tell me, Kurt," Blaine assured him in a low, gentle voice. "You can tell me anything."

Kurt held his gaze for a moment, looking conflicted. Blaine thought he could make out the beginnings of tears welling up behind the other boy's eyes. It was like they were fighting to get past the guard Kurt had put up.

Finally, Kurt relaxed his hand in Blaine's and even gave it an appreciative squeeze.

"You're sweet, Blaine. I'm really… I'm really not used to people acting so concerned about me. Except my dad, I guess."

Blaine squeezed his eyebrows together at that. "Of course I'm concerned. You show up here with a huge bruise on you and you expect me to just not worry about it? No way. Tell me what happened. Did someone hurt you?"

A small smile actually played at Kurt's lips at Blaine's declaration of caring. He looked back at the floor before finally letting out a sigh. "I… I don't want any of the guys at school to know," he began.

Blaine leaned more forward in his chair and ran his thumb comfortingly over Kurt's soft knuckles. "You can tell me," he said again. "I won't repeat it to anyone if you don't want me to. You can trust me."

Kurt took a deep breath before beginning again. "It's the reason I had to transfer," he said simply, still looking at the floor. "At McKinley there was… well there was this bully."

A slow burn began to build in Blaine's chest. From that tidbit of information alone, Blaine felt like he had enough anger welling up inside him to get in his car, hightail it to Lima, and find and kill the son of a bitch who dared to lay his hands on Kurt. Beautiful, delicate, wonderful, blue-eyed Kurt.

"And I guess he decided that he really didn't like that I was gay. It started out with just normal Neanderthal bully crap. Slushies' in the face. Shoves into lockers. Bad stuff but nothing unmanageable. Nothing the rest of the glee club didn't go through as well."

Blaine nodded his understanding as Kurt continued.

"Then it started to get more personal. Name-calling. Following me between classes. Then he got a hold of my cell number somehow and started sending me all these horrible messages. Threats mostly. To cut to the chase, he said… he said he wanted to kill me."

"Oh my god," Blaine uttered, and he grasped Kurt's hand tighter.

"And no one would do anything about it!" Kurt added voice rising just a bit. "I mean, when I finally told my dad, he was obviously pissed, but he's only one guy, you know? He told the school administration but they said they couldn't do anything because the abuse from the messages didn't technically happen on school grounds."

"What?" Blaine sputtered, the slow heat in his chest now burning like an open flame. "That's bullshit!"

Kurt let out a humorless laugh. "I know, right? So basically, I was powerless against him. My friends just told me to ignore him, but how do you ignore the fact that you don't feel safe walking down the halls of your own school?"

Blaine clenched his jaw as he listened. "So what happened? How'd you get the bruises?" he asked slowly, hoping it wasn't too much prying and that Kurt wouldn't hate him for making him say.

Kurt shrugged. "I decided to confront him. In hindsight, it was really stupid to do it alone. I mean, the guy is easily twice my size. But I just couldn't take it anymore and I didn't know what else to do."

Again, Blaine nodded his understanding. His heart was beating hard at the thought of Kurt being put into a dangerous situation like that.

Kurt continued. "He called me a name in the hallway, so I followed him into the locker room and asked him what his problem was." Kurt went silent and stared back at the floor.

"And he hit you?" Blaine guessed after a moment of quiet. "Shoved you?"

Kurt shook his head. "He kissed me."

Blaine felt his mouth fall open. The flame of anger inside him immediately erupted into a full on explosion. In that moment, he had never hated anyone more on this earth than the stupid asshole who had put his lips on Kurt unwanted.

"He kissed me and then he grabbed me and pinned me against the lockers. I wanted to scream for help, but I was so scared and shocked that all I could do was just stand there."

"Kurt…" Blaine began, but Kurt just kept talking, his expression becoming almost catatonic as he recalled the events.

"He held me still by my shoulder and kissed me again and then I felt… I felt his hand on my belt…"

"Kurt, stop. You don't have to say any more," Blaine assured him, reaching forward and taking Kurt's free hand in his, so he was rubbing soothing circles into the backs of both the other boy's hands with his thumbs.

"Finn came in then. My stepbrother. He was looking for me. He pushed him off me and punched him in the face."

"I like your stepbrother already," Blaine commented.

The tiniest of smiles came across Kurt's face. "Yeah. I'm really lucky to have him."

Blaine returned the fragile smile as best he could, trying to let Kurt know he was okay here. That he wasn't being judged. That he really cared.

"Anyway," Kurt continued again, "We reported the whole thing to the administration."

"And? Did they fry this bastard?" Blaine asked hopefully.

Kurt's face saddened once again. "No. Not exactly. They suspended him for two weeks. And Finn for one for fighting."

"_What_?" was all Blaine could muster at that ridiculous injustice. "He should be in _jail _for that kind of thing!"

Kurt shrugged. "Yeah, probably. So, needless to say, my dad was furious. He pulled me out of school immediately. This was Wednesday. I was moved in at Dalton by Friday night. Emergency Transfer."

Blaine remembered then what Wes had said Friday night about Kurt moving to Dalton for sanctuary. He'd had to move for his own safety. It all made sense now. Why Kurt had been so skittish about telling him he was gay. Why he got so emotional when Blaine told him there was no bullying at Dalton. It all made perfect sense.

"I am so sorry you had to go through any of that," Blaine said humbly.

Kurt shrugged once more. "It's okay. The worst is over." He looked down at their intertwined hands on the table. "I can already tell I'm in a much batter place now. Things are definitely looking up."

Blaine couldn't help the smile that took over his face at the comment. He really couldn't believe how positive Kurt was being after all of that. And that he was even willing or able to go out on a date so soon after such a traumatic event. If there was one thing that Blaine was learning form time spent with Kurt thus far, it was that this boy was resilient. Resilient and strong and so, so brave.

"You're so brave, Kurt," he voiced aloud.

The other boy's cheeks flushed a bit and his smile became more genuine. The sight warmed Blaine's heart, happy he could make Kurt feel good.

Brave. Courage. The words pinged around in Blaine's mind like pinballs. He knew he needed to have some courage here. Courage like his grandfather told him to have. Courage like Kurt had. Here was this beautiful boy sitting in front of him, telling him his most private business. Telling him things he wouldn't dare let anyone else know yet. All probably under the assumption that this sharing was a two-way street, and yet Blaine still sat there, unable to force the words of his biggest, most important secret forward from his lips.

He knew he needed to tell Kurt he hadn't been honest. He knew he deserved the truth from Blaine, especially after all the shit he's been through and how trusting he'd been.

And Kurt had even said he liked kids and wanted to have them soon. He said he was a fan of the idea of young parents and that his parents were even teen parents. He couldn't take the news that badly, could he? He would probably understand better than most people their age. It was even probably early on enough that Kurt wouldn't even be too mad that he'd lied to him about it. As long as he came clean. As long as he came clean right now…

"Seriously. I admire you so much. Every time we talk I just get more and more impressed. You handle everything so gracefully," Blaine added, making Kurt blush more and squeeze Blaine's hands just a little bit tighter.

"Thank you, Blaine," he replied sweetly. "I try."

It was the moment of truth. Literally. Blaine took a deep breath as he stared into those blue eyes that had been on his mind for two days straight. It was now or never. He just hoped that Kurt would handle this news as gracefully as he seemed to handle everything else.

"Kurt, you've been so real and so honest. It's really incredible. And I feel like I owe it to you to be the same. I have to tell you something," he stated plainly, barely concealing the nervous tremor in his voice as his heart pounded hard in his chest. He was vaguely aware that his palms were probably beginning to sweat in Kurt's soft, perfect hands, but he didn't dare let go.

"Yeah? What is it?" Kurt asked with a quizzical tilt of his head.

_Courage_, Blaine told himself. He breathed deeply again.

"I haven't been completely honest with you."

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "About what?"

"Well, you told me why you transferred, but I haven't been totally clear about _why_ exactly I'm homeschooled," he said in a nervous preamble.

Kurt nodded. "I've noticed," he said simply. Not menacingly, not even annoyed. Just simply, like he knew Blaine would eventually come around and tell him when he was ready.

Blaine let out a small anxious laugh, just hoping he didn't keel over from a nerve-induced stroke right then and there. "Right. Well, the reason I left Dalton after sophomore year was because…"

The bell on the door to the shop jingled and Blaine glanced up at the sound. Then he froze. His mouth opened slightly in a small gasp and he could feel his eyes bug.

There, standing just inside the door, was Sebastian. He stood with his green eyes peering up at the menu board. And there, hoisted up against his hip, playing with the lapel of his coat, was his son. Sebastian and Oliver. Right there. They were _there_ before his very eyes while he sat on a date with Kurt. Kurt. To whom he was just about to tell everything. While everything was standing just about twenty feet away.

Blaine gulped.

_Oh. Shit._


	6. Chapter 6

6

Blaine's mouth hung open like fish out of water, the only coherent thought processing in his head being: _No no no no no no no!_

He'd stopped breathing the moment he spotted his ex and son enter the coffee shop, and now his face had paled to an uneasy shade of green. He had also developed a vice-like grip on Kurt's hands where they still lay intertwined on the table.

"Blaine?" Kurt questioned from across the table. "Are you okay?" He tried to shift his numbing hands a bit, but Blaine remained unresponsive.

Blaine could only watch in abject horror as Oliver began turning his little head to curiously observe his surroundings over Sebastian's shoulder. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears when the little boy's gaze scanned over the tables of customers and then, as if in slow motion, finally came to rest on him.

An enormous smile broke out on the toddler's face when he spotted his daddy across the shop. He immediately clapped his little hands in delight and began to squirm in Sebastian's arms, obviously trying to escape his grasp and run to his other father.

In any other circumstance, Blaine would have found the action adorable and even downright heart melting. But right then, for the first time in his life, he really just wished Ollie would ignore him and keep clinging to Sebastian until he got his coffee and they left peacefully.

He continued to stare at the dooming action playing out before him. Oliver made his telltale grabby hand gesture toward Blaine, and all Blaine could do was sit and watch Sebastian's gaze follow the action and land right on him. A touch of shock tinted the green eyes as surprised recognition flooded the older boy's expression.

Then Blaine felt a slight tug as Kurt pulled one of his hands free from his grasp on them. The next thing to penetrate his consciousness was the pale hand waving in front of his face.

"Earth to Blaine?" Kurt's voice questioned once more.

He finally blinked and allowed himself to look back at the boy across from him.

"Hi there," Kurt said with a small laugh, having finally won back his date's attention. "What are you staring at?" Then he turned in his chair to look in the direction Blaine had been gawking.

Dreading what he'd see, but feeling totally powerless to stop it, Blaine also allowed his eyes to return to where they'd been glued. He inhaled sharply when he was greeted with the sight of Sebastian's eyes looking from him down to where the other pair of Blaine and Kurt's hands was still clasped on the table. The menacing expression that immediately took over his ex's face sent a chill down Blaine's spine. He quickly dropped his grip on Kurt's hand, causing the other boy to turn back to him with a questioning, almost hurt look.

Sebastian then lowered the now giddy Oliver to the ground, clearly in order to let him make a run for his daddy.

"What's going on?" Kurt asked Blaine, tone matching his confused expression.

Blaine wanted to blurt it all out right then and there, in the split-second they still had before all of his secrets literally came right up to them and introduced themselves; but in that moment, he felt so shocked, so bewildered, and so _scared_ that he thought that if he even opened his mouth to speak, he would end up blowing chunks all over the table.

Then the next sensation he registered was a little ball of excited energy plowing into his legs. Ollie wrapped his little arms around Blaine's knees in a tight hug.

A surprised, but amused smile actually took over Kurt's face when he saw the toddler suddenly clinging to Blaine. "Oh! Who is this?" he asked.

Before Blaine could utter a single syllable, Oliver decided to speak up first.

"Dada!" the little boy proclaimed excitedly as he proceeded to try to pull himself up into Blaine's lap.

The smile was immediately erased from Kurt's face and replaced with one of sheer bewilderment. His eyes glanced back and forth between Blaine and the little boy, growing wide with confusion.

"Dadaaa, up!" Oliver demanded, laughing joyously as he pawed at Blaine's legs.

"Blaine?" Kurt asked, voice softened in clear astonishment.

Finding himself unable to meet the burning blue eyes across from him, Blaine opted for reaching down and gathering the struggling Ollie into his lap. "Hey, Buddy," Blaine managed to say in the most upbeat tone he could muster for his son.

The little boy threw his arms around his daddy's neck and held on tight, and Blaine couldn't help but return the embrace. It was a moment of comfort right before what he knew was about to become a giant, _giant_ clusterfuck.

"Well, well, well," Sebastian's voice, sounding fully charged with extra cocky audacity, chimed in when he approached the table. He placed his hands in his pockets and glanced smugly back and forth between Blaine and Kurt. "What do we have here?"

"Sebastian…" Blaine began, feeling very hot under the scrutiny of his ex and the questioning stare of his date. "What are you doing here?"

Sebastian raised his eyebrows down at Blaine. "Moi?" he asked innocently, placing a hand to his own chest. "I was just running a bit early, so Ollie and I thought we'd stop by and grab some coffee before we headed over to your house." Sebastian then turned to glare at Kurt. "I don't believe I've been introduced to your friend here, Blaine."

Blaine gulped again, still hugging Ollie tightly to his chest, before he dared to look back at Kurt. The other boy glanced between Blaine and Sebastian before his eyes fell back on the curly haired toddler cuddled against his date. His mouth was slightly agape and his eyebrows were pulled into a skeptical slant. Blaine could practically see the gears turning in his head as he tried to put the pieces of the scenario playing out before him together.

"Oh, um, this is Kurt. He's knew at Dalton," Blaine said carefully, unsure how volatile Sebastian might become, especially since he'd clearly seen them holding hands just a moment ago.

"I see," was all Sebastian said, but his menacing eyes raking up and down Kurt's seated form clearly betrayed the hostility he was holding back.

Kurt finally spoke up again. "Blaine, what is going on?" he repeated his question from a minute before; his voice sounded scared of the answer he might get.

Blaine opened his mouth to answer, but once again, his son beat him to the punch.

"Dada nose!" Ollie exclaimed as he reached up to grab at Blaine's nose.

"Yes, Ollie. That's my nose," he said quickly to placate the boy.

"Why does he keep calling you that?" Kurt asked, his voice becoming more insistent and his eyes becoming more desperate.

"Oh, this is _spectacular_," Sebastian commented smugly, crossing his arms and smirking when he saw Kurt's shock.

Blaine looked back at the flustered, imploring sea of blue and immediately knew he was losing him. It wouldn't matter what he said at this point, Kurt could clearly see what was going on here. He had been caught in the biggest, stupidest, most cowardly lie of his life and there was no way that this wonderful, amazing, strong person would stick around one more minute. Right before he was about to be honest, it all came crashing down. It was no use holding anything back now.

"Kurt," he began, his voice sounding smaller than he'd expected, "this is Oliver." He turned the toddler in his lap so he was facing Kurt. "My son."

Kurt was silent for a long moment. He simply looked back and forth between Blaine and Oliver, eyes growing wider with each pass. Finally, he leant back in his chair and let out a long breath. "Your son," he repeated. It was a statement of fact, no longer a question at all.

"_Our_ son," Sebastian interjected. Blaine looked up to see Sebastian snake forward toward Kurt, hand outstretched and condescending smile firmly in place. "I'm Sebastian Smythe," he said, offering the hand to a dubious Kurt. "And I'm Blaine's fiancé."

"_Sebastian_!" Blaine practically shouted. He hurriedly turned to Kurt, who was now wearing an expression like someone had just run over his puppy with their car, backed up, and run over it again.

"Kurt," Blaine implored, silently begging the other boy to look at him. "He is _not_ my fiancé."

He heard Sebastian scoff.

When Kurt did look back to him, Blaine could see that same guard up that he'd worn when he talked about his bully. He stared at Blaine for a moment with so much intensity that Blaine stopped breathing. His once sparkling eyes looked shielded and stagnant, holding back unshed tears. He shook his head almost imperceptibly at Blaine. The tiny, disappointed gesture seemed to communicate everything he needed to say.

Blaine's heart dropped.

Then Kurt tore his gaze away. He turned back to Sebastian and took the proffered hand. "I'm Kurt Hummel," he said firmly as he shook Sebastian's hand, his voice seeming to have found a new vigor. "And I'm leaving."

Kurt dropped Sebastian's hand and stood up. He gathered his coat from his chair and stalked off toward the door; he did not look back at Blaine.

Blaine sat in awed silence for a moment, simply staring at Kurt's back as he left the shop. It felt like his heart was sitting on top of his stomach and he realized then that he had never felt so low in his life. Not even when he'd had to tell his father he was pregnant. At least then, he hadn't lied to anyone. But today, there he'd been, with this beautiful, honest, trusting boy in front of him, holding his hand and looking at him like he was the best thing he'd ever beheld, and he'd let him down. He'd wiped that hopefulness and that light and that wonderful spark right off his face with his stupid hesitancy and his stupid fear of being judged. He knew now that Kurt wouldn't have judged him. Not with everything he'd been through himself. He would never.

_ I can't let him go._ The thought snapped in Blaine's mind as he watched the door to the shop close behind Kurt and then he knew. He knew as surely as he knew his name that he could not let him leave without trying to fix this. He couldn't hesitate again.

"Well, that was rude," Sebastian's voice said snidely once Kurt had disappeared. "Not so much as a goodbye." He turned to look at Blaine with a satisfied expression. "Now that's not very gentlemanly, is it?"

Knowing he couldn't waste another second to comment on his ex's sarcasm, Blaine grabbed Oliver to his chest and stood. "Here, take him," he said, holding his son out to Sebastian.

"Why? Where are you…"

"Will you just take him!" Blaine could feel the slight pressure of panicked tears pressing behind his eyes. "Please."

Sebastian's expression softened at the desperate request. "Fine," he replied, reaching out and taking Oliver back from his ex. "But I don't know what good it will do at this poi…"

"Sebastian," Blaine interrupted, barely keeping his cool as he thought about Kurt getting farther and farther away with each passing second. "Not. Now."

The older boy's mouth closed and his eyes narrowed as he watched Blaine run toward the door of the shop and out.

Blaine scanned the parking lot. His pulse quickened with panic when he didn't spot Kurt anywhere. His breaths were coming in shallow and sporadic. He ran a hand through his hair as he turned, searching in every direction. His heart jumped when he saw the retreating figure in a black pea coat headed down the alley next to the building.

"Kurt!" he called, immediately running after him. He rounded the corner just in time to see Kurt glance over his shoulder, blue eyes glinting with what had to be anger. _Courage_, he reminded himself. _Courage, for real this time._

"Kurt, wait! Please! I was about to tell you!"

He ran after him down the alley until he was close enough to touch him. Blaine reached an arm out to grab Kurt's shoulder, but retracted it quickly when Kurt suddenly turned to face him. Blaine actually gasped at the anger he saw written all over his face.

"What is this? Some kind of sick joke?" he shouted.

"What? No, Kurt, I was seriously just about to tell you…"

"Some kind of twisted way to mess with the new kid? Get him to fall for a guy with a kid and a fiancé and then sit back and have a good laugh when he _finally_ figures it out?"

"Kurt, no. It's not like that. I swear!" Blaine pleaded, feeling the imminent tears beginning to push harder at the back of his eyes.

"All the guys were in on it, weren't they? That's why they would always change the subject when I tried to ask about you." Kurt looked at Blaine and shook his head in the same disappointed way as before. "I really thought things could be different for me here. But I guess assholes are everywhere, aren't they? God, I am so stupid."

He moved to walk away again, but this time Blaine stepped forward and grabbed his arm, making him turn back.

"Please just listen to me for a second."

"You said that picture on your phone was your _nephew_."

"I know I did. And it was the single stupidest thing I've ever told anyone. Please, let me try to explain?"

Kurt crossed his arms and raised an expectant eyebrow at Blaine. The expression clearly said _this had better be good_, and Blaine thought that in any other circumstance, the sass would have been kind of adorable. But right there and then, he knew he had a lot of explaining to do, and he didn't intend on letting Kurt go until he'd told him everything. He owed him that much.

"Kurt, please, believe me when I say that it was never my intention to hurt you."

Kurt huffed at that, but his expression remained expectant.

"When we met that night, and we got to talking, I just… I felt like we clicked, you know? We have so much in common and you were so nice and funny and accepting that you made me forget myself for a while. For the first time in so long, I wasn't the 'guy with the baby.' I was just Blaine. And it felt amazing."

"So you thought you'd take advantage of that and lie to me?"

"No, I just… I just wanted that feeling to last for a little bit longer. I didn't want to ruin it. I didn't want to scare you away before I even got my chance."

Kurt looked pensive. His blue eyes bored into Blaine's hazel ones as if he was searching for something. After a moment of loaded silence, the intensity in his expression finally wavered. When he spoke, his voice was quieter, more subdued and free from the angry venom that had poisoned his accusing words before.

"You wouldn't have scared me away," he practically whispered.

Blaine allowed the tiniest, relieved half-smile to come onto his lips. Kurt was listening. He was listening and not trying to run away anymore. This was good.

"I know that now," he replied honestly. "I was just too scared before. I mean, most guys our age wouldn't stick around for a second once a baby gets thrown into the equation."

Kurt shook his head quickly. "I'm not most guys."

"Of course you're not. You're so special, Kurt." Blaine moved forward and made a grab for Kurt's hand, missing the warm security of feeling it in his. But Kurt flinched back at the action, denying Blaine the comfort. Blaine lowered his head and looked at the ground. "Sorry," he mumbled to his shoes. "That was dumb of me."

"Yeah, well, apparently you're on a roll lately."

Blaine flinched at the comment, but knew he deserved it.

"Yeah, I guess so. Kurt, you have every right to be angry at me right now," he began, daring to raise his eyes up to Kurt's again. "I screwed up. I got scared and I did the cowardly thing. I even told the guys not to tell you about Oliver because I was so scared you'd never look my way again."

Kurt opened his mouth to say something at that, but Blaine cut him short.

"Please don't be angry with them. It's all my fault. They even told me to tell you and I didn't listen. They were just being good friends, that's all."

Kurt looked skeptical. "You got an entire glee club to lie to me?"

Blaine scrambled. "Not to _lie_, exactly… just not to bring up certain things."

Kurt rolled his eyes at that. "God, Blaine. Where does it end with you? You think it's okay to lead people on with all your dapper charm and just leave everything important at the door? To get all your friends to lie too? I just got done telling you the details of the most traumatizing, humiliating event of my life and you… you just…" Kurt sighed and ran a hand through his perfectly styled hair.

"How do you ever expect to establish any kind of normal relationship with anyone if you can't even be honest about something as basic and as significant as your own child?"

"I know. I realize that. And that's why I was planning on telling you all of it today. You heard me in there. I was just about to tell you everything before they came in. Because I realized I liked you way too much to cover it up anymore."

Kurt's expression softened further at that.

Blaine took it as a good sign and continued, dropping his voice to a calm, kind tone. "I respect you too much to ever lie to you again. I promise."

The other boy was quiet again. He looked at Blaine, studying his sorry expression as if analyzing it, as if making a judgment. Blaine just stood still through the scrutiny, silently praying that Kurt would find something worthwhile: some redeeming quality that would allow him another chance to try and do things right.

Finally, after a moment that felt like forever, Kurt spoke again.

"How old is he?" the taller boy asked.

Blaine's eyebrows furrowed in surprise, not expecting that to be the question that Kurt would ask in that moment. "Oh, um, eighteen months," he replied.

Kurt gave a quick nod and Blaine could see the gears in his head turning again.

"Sixteen," he said in response to Kurt's silent question.

Kurt's gaze snapped back to him.

"I had him when I was sixteen," Blaine clarified.

Kurt's eyes widened a bit before he spoke again. "So, you _are_ a carrier then?"

Blaine nodded. "Yes."

"Huh," Kurt uttered. "Well that explains the outburst about male pregnancy earlier."

"Yeah," Blaine conceded, feeling a bit ashamed of the reminder of the emotional outlash.

"And Mr. Ralph-Lauren-Model-Wannabe in there is the other father?" he asked, jerking his thumb toward the building where Sebastian was presumably still inside with Oliver.

Blaine wanted to laugh at the description, but knew this wasn't the time. "Yes. He was my boyfriend at Dalton. He goes to OSU now," he answered simply. "But we're not together," he added in a rush. "He was my fiancé for a while, but he's not anymore. I swear. He just takes Ollie every other weekend."

Kurt let out a humorless laugh. "Well he seemed pretty convinced you two were together."

Blaine sighed. "It's complicated."

Kurt put on an ironic smile. "I bet."

"Kurt, I've had a… a complicated history. But I promise you that I'm one hundred percent single. Sebastian… well he just… he just gets…"

"Jealous," Kurt finished for him, putting on a knowing smirk.

"Yeah. I guess so."

Kurt nodded his head once more and re-crossed his arms. Another silence took over the alley as the two boys stood and let the situation process. After a while, Blaine glanced up at Kurt to find him staring at the ground, so deep in concentration that he looked like he could have been contemplating a solution to world hunger. Blaine simply slipped his hands in his pockets and looked away again, feeling like he really shouldn't interrupt.

A cold breeze whipped down the alley and Blaine shivered against the chill. Only then did it occur to him that he'd left Joehouse without putting his coat back on, and his thin sweater was doing little to shield him from the harsh February air. He brought his hands back out of his pockets and rubbed them together.

"You're cold," Kurt suddenly commented.

"Hmm? No, I'm fine," Blaine replied, dropping his freezing hands back down to his sides.

The smallest of subtle smiles crept up on Kurt's face and it flooded Blaine's mind with hope. For the first time since Sebastian and Ollie had entered the shop, he thought that maybe not all was lost.

"You are," Kurt retorted. "You should go inside. Warm up. Plus, there's a certain toddler in there that seemed pretty excited to see you."

Blaine let out a small sigh. "Yeah, I guess. But, Kurt… are we… I mean, are you okay?"

"I'll be fine, Blaine. I always am."

Blaine nodded and slid his hands back in pockets. "Okay. Good. That's really good," he rambled. He took a breath before he let himself continue. "Kurt, I am so, so sorry. Please believe me when I say that."

"I believe you," he answered simply, easily, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Blaine nodded again and bit his lip. He really didn't know how to say what he wanted to know next, but he knew he had to say it. "I hope you don't hate me," he blurted. "I really hope you don't hate me because I really, really love talking to you and I don't know if I can give it up now."

Kurt's eyes widened at the statement and his lips turned up into another tiny smile.

"And I hope you know that I only ever lied because I've never liked anyone so much so quickly in my life, and I didn't want to lose you." Blaine felt his cheeks flush as soon as the words were said. He knew they were embarrassing. He knew they made him vulnerable, but he knew he needed to get them out. "I hope you'll give me another chance some day. I understand if you don't, but just… I just wanted you to know that."

Kurt stared at him, gears turning in his head once more. He didn't say anything for yet another silent moment. The silence this time seemed to reverberate off the walls of the alley and press in Blaine's ears. He thought his heart might pound right out of his chest if Kurt didn't say something soon.

Kurt finally let out a sigh. "I have to think, okay? I… I like you too, but I just have to think. I already have a lot going on and this is just… it's a lot."

Blaine nodded his understanding, although a feeling like a hundred pound weight settled on his chest. "I'm sorry, Kurt," he said again, not knowing what else there was to say.

"I know you are. I'll call you when I'm ready to talk, okay?"

"Okay," Blaine said softly, not really wanting to accept that vague assurance but knowing he didn't really have a choice.

The tiny smile reappeared on the taller boy's lips. He took a step backward toward the back of they alley, beginning him on his walk back to Dalton's campus. His eyes lingered on Blaine for just a moment longer. "You have a really adorable son, Blaine," he said before he turned around and began walking away.

Blaine was in a sort of daze. He stood and watched Kurt go until he turned the corner and was out of sight. Then he stood still for a while longer, trying to let everything that had just happened sink into his brain.

Kurt knew. Kurt knew, and although it didn't seem like he _totally_ hated Blaine for lying, it was obvious that their dynamic had changed. Now Kurt saw him as Teenage Dad Blaine Anderson, just like the rest of the world. Blaine hoped that that didn't mean he'd just lost him forever.

After a while, Blaine wasn't sure exactly how long it was, he finally registered the sharp, nipping pain in his ears that told him it was way too cold to still be standing there in the vacant alley.

With one last, long, emptying sigh, Blaine looked away from where Kurt had just left and turned to head back toward Joehouse. There was nothing else to be done about Kurt right now. It was time to face Sebastian.

Blaine entered the shop to find Sebastian occupying the table he and Kurt had left. He was nursing a large coffee in a to-go cup and staring blankly at the floor. Ollie was perched in one of the shop's wooden highchairs that had been pulled up to the table. The little boy was sipping happily on a Sippy cup of chocolate milk.

Sebastian looked up when Blaine approached. Blaine just made a beeline straight for Ollie and lifted his son out of the highchair. Ollie giggled in delight when his daddy picked him up and pulled him into a hug.

Blaine squeezed Ollie to his chest, finally able to enjoy the wonderful sensation of having his son back in his arms. He inhaled the familiar scent of Johnson & Johnson baby shampoo and for just a moment, he was almost able to forget the horrible sequence of events and unexpected revelations that had just taken place.

"I missed you so much, Ollie Golly," he whispered into his son's hair.

"Miss-soo," the little boy answered while trying to maneuver his Sippy cup back to his mouth over Blaine's shoulder.

"He cried this morning because he wanted _you_ to feed him breakfast," Sebastian remarked from his seated position. His expression was guarded and careful as he regarded Blaine. He took a long sip of coffee, but maintained his eye contact with Blaine over the top of the cup.

"Really?" Blaine responded as calmly as he could manage, although he really was on edge. He'd expected Sebastian to go into some kind of jealous tirade as soon as he'd come back into the shop, but he hadn't. And somehow, this calm, evasive Sebastian seemed even scarier.

Sebastian nodded. "Apparently, 'Dada better,'" he added bitterly.

Blaine stared back at him for a second, not knowing what to make of this conversation. Was Sebastian really just going to ignore the fact that he'd been holding hands with another guy just minutes before?

_Subtlety_, Blaine reminded himself. _The real issue will present itself soon enough._

"Well, don't take it personally. He's a baby. He's just used to me." Blaine said, trying to keep the cautious edge out of his voice as much as possible.

Sebastian put his coffee back on the table with perhaps a bit more force than was necessary. "Oh, sure," he said through tight lips. "Because _Daddy_ is just perfect, right? _Daddy_ can do no wrong. Yeah, right."

_Yep. There it is_.

Blaine sighed, giving up on a civil conversation and hoping he could just cut to the chase behind Sebastian's issue. He really was pretty emotionally drained by this point and didn't think he could take any more beating around the bush.

"Sebastian, why don't you just tell me what's the matter, huh?" he asked, although he wasn't sure he wanted to hear the real answer.

"What's the matter? What's the _matter_, Blaine?" His green eyes looked up at Blaine incredulously. "I just came in here and found you holding hands with some guy who's eye-fucking the shit out of you. Is this what you do every other weekend before I bring Ollie back to you? Whore around with randos?"

The words felt like a slap in the face. Blaine actually took a subconscious step backward and found himself turning his body instinctively away from Sebastian, as if to shield his son from danger.

Blaine blinked several times in confused shock before he was able to form words again.

"E-_excuse me_?" he said disbelievingly.

Sebastian's menacing eyes just bore into him from where he sat.

Anger built up in Blaine's chest like pressure beneath a volcano.

"_Whore_ around, Sebastian? Really? That's what you think _I_ do?"

"I just call them like I see them." The older boy crossed his arms, expression scathing.

Blaine's mouth hung open in shock for what must have been the third or forth time that day. He just could not honestly believe that Sebastian had the nerve to judge him about how he spent his time or whom he spent it with. And to insinuate _he_ was being promiscuous? Wasn't it just two days ago that Blaine had called Sebastian out _again_ for a hickey on his neck?

"So, this Colt," Sebastian started again, voice still eerily calm. "Are you fucking him?"

The younger teen's eyebrows shot up at the blunt question. It took everything he had to remember he had Ollie in his arms, so he probably shouldn't rip Sebastian's head from his body right then and there for asking such a thing.

"It's Kurt. And, not that it is any of your business at _all_," Blaine began, struggling to keep the frustration and anger from bleeding into his words too much. He knew that Ollie was sensitive to his tones and didn't want to scare him. "But, for your information, that was our first date. And it also might have been our last, so you can just calm down."

Blaine glared at his ex as he spoke, honestly surprised with himself for how calm he was managing to keep his voice, but hoping his true feelings of disgust were being communicated though his stare.

Sebastian's smirk returned. "Oh, I see," he said, leaning forward a bit in his chair. "Pretty boy didn't like it when he found out that you're not as innocent as your innocent schoolboy guise would suggest." The smirk grew even more. "Wasn't too keen on the idea that you've obviously already been around the block a few times already, huh?"

Blaine clenched his jaw and continued to glare. He had gone through more than his fair share of having people judge him for having a baby so young. It was something he'd honestly just come to expect from strangers. People calling him irresponsible, reckless, or even a gold-digger or a slut in some cases. But he never, ever expected to have all that turned back around on him by his baby's other father.

He took a deep breath through his nose, trying to filter the rage and betrayal he felt pumping through his system. He was fairly certain that had not already been so emotionally drained from his discussion with Kurt, tears would have been falling freely down his face by this point. But as it was, Blaine just closed his eyes and decided to concentrate on ending this conversation before it got really, really ugly.

"You know what, Sebastian?" he asked, daring to meet the conceited green gaze again. He let out a sigh, though, when he realized it was a lost cause. Sebastian would hold onto this absurd need to control him forever, probably. And he had just been reminded at how adept his ex had become at putting him down. At kicking him where it counts emotionally. So in the end, Blaine knew it just didn't matter what he said in his own defense. Sebastian would spin it. He would believe what he wanted to believe.

"Never mind," Blaine continued. "You never hear what I have to say anyway."

Sebastian's smirk faded. To Blaine's surprise, he even looked a little… remorseful?

Blaine just rolled his eyes though. Then he hiked Ollie up a little bit higher on his hip. "Let's go, Ollie," he said to his son. "Say bye-bye to Papa."

Sebastian scoffed. "You're just gonna leave, then?"

Blaine merely nodded. "I don't have to stand here and justify myself to you." He reached out to the chair he'd abandoned earlier when he went after Kurt and picked up his coat. Then he snatched the strap of the baby bag, which Sebastian had brought into the shop with him, from the back of his chair. "I'm taking him home," he stated. Then he turned to go, not even honestly caring that Ollie hadn't gotten a proper goodbye from his Papa.

Sebastian threw his head back and let out a groan of obvious exasperation.

Blaine was all the way out into the parking lot and to his car when he heard Sebastian's voice behind him.

"Blaine, wait," he said in what came off as a surprisingly pleading voice.

Blaine had half a mind to just ignore him, but really there was nowhere to go and he still had to strap Ollie into the seat, so he conceded. "What?" he asked without turning around. He opened the back door of his Subaru and set Ollie in his seat as he waited for Sebastian's reply.

"I… I guess I didn't mean it, okay?"

Blaine's eyebrow quirked. That was not what he was expecting to hear. He straightened up and turned back toward Sebastian, intrigued.

"I didn't mean to imply anything about you having a baby. Obviously, I'm in the same boat with you on that, so I'm sorry for going there. That was low."

Blaine crossed his arms as he listened, immensely surprised that Sebastian would attempt to apologize to him for anything.

"I just saw you holding that guy's hand and… and you were here of all places and I guess I just snapped. Just why did you have to bring him _here_?"

"Here?" Blaine reiterated, not sure what Sebastian was getting at.

His ex looked surprised. "C'mon, Blaine. Joehouse? Every Thursday after Warblers?"

Blaine frowned. Of course. Now that Sebastian mentioned it, he recalled there countless Thursday coffee dates perfectly. He just never expected that Sebastian would. Or that he would still care so much about them.

Blaine's head spun in thought for a moment, and when he didn't answer, Sebastian immediately recoiled from his moment of vulnerability.

"Never mind. It's nothing. Apparently, it means absolutely nothing anymore," he said tersely.

"Sebastian," Blaine began.

"No," the taller boy cut him off. "Forget it. Do whatever the hell you want, Blaine."

Now it was Blaine's turn to let out the exasperated groan. "I don't understand what the big deal is. You go on dates all the time and I don't give you any crap. But I go on my very first one since _you_ and you get to give me some kind of huge guilt trip?"

"I said forget it, Blaine," he said, his tone becoming more severe. Then he moved toward Blaine's open car door and started strapping Ollie into his seat. "But for the record, I don't _date_ any of them. It's always just… well, you know."

Blaine just stared at Sebastian's back. He opened his mouth twice to speak before words actually came. "Oh," he managed to articulate. "Why?"

Yes, it was true that Blaine had no desire at all anymore to date his ex-fiancé. But he wasn't blind. It was obvious that Sebastian was a good-looking guy who clearly didn't have any trouble with picking up men. None of them would know right away how conniving or degrading he could sometimes be, so why on earth wouldn't he have tried to start dating someone knew in the past year and a half? Blaine had always just assumed that the reason Sebastian almost never came back up to Westerville was because he was booked solid with dates practically every night.

Sebastian didn't respond. He just murmured something to Ollie in French before kissing him on his forehead. Then he straightened back up and shut the car door.

"I have to get going back to campus," he said. "I have an Economics test to study for."

Blaine narrowed his eyes slightly, but decided not call his ex out on the avoidance of the question. Honestly, he was ready to end this encounter and just get the hell away from this place for the day.

"Okay," he answered simply.

Sebastian turned and started to walk toward his Porsche parked a few spots away.

As his ex strolled away, Blaine felt compelled to yell after him. He felt like Sebastian really needed to hear this, although he couldn't pinpoint exactly why.

"I like Kurt, Sebastian," he said matter-of-factly.

Sebastian stopped walking, but didn't turn around.

"And he might never talk to me again, but I'm gonna keep trying to make things right with him. I just… I really like him. I feel like you should know that," Blaine added.

Blaine watched from behind as the older boy dipped his head slowly. He noticed the way Sebastian clenched his fists and a small pang of fear rose in his chest at the gesture, but then the Sebastian's hands relaxed and he turned around again.

His expression was blank at first. He just looked at Blaine and nodded again. Then his eyes trailed slowly up and down his ex's body and a tiny smirk came back to his face.

"I still love that sweater on you, Bee," he said. Then he turned back toward his car and got in. He paused before he closed his door and leaned his head back out. "Tell your dad I'm sorry for not stopping by the house," he said over the door. Then he closed it and started the engine. Within a matter of moments, he was gone.

Blaine shook his head as he watched the black SUV disappear down the street. Damn Sebastian and his cryptic messages. '_I still love that sweater on you'_? What in the hell was that supposed to mean? How was that a logical response to 'Hey, I like someone else'? It was just the kind of remark Sebastian would always make to get under Blaine's skin. And Blaine hated that it worked. It worked every single time.

"Whatever," he muttered to himself as he got into the driver's seat of his car.

By that point, Blaine wanted nothing more than to just go home and try to forget about the enormous clusterfuck that the day had turned into. He just wanted to settle down and play with Ollie and let himself think about something else. He knew that wasn't really realistic though. Not when he still had the memory of those questioning, hurt blue eyes haunting his mind.

He sighed and let his head fall back on the headrest of the seat. Then he glanced in the rearview mirror and caught his son's bright eyes.

"Daddy really messed up, Buddy," he said to Ollie's reflection.

The little boy cocked his head to the side in a quizzical manner.

"Never, ever lie to anyone, okay?" said Blaine.

Ollie smiled, clearly not catching on to the full meaning of what Blaine was saying but thrilled to have his daddy talking to him. "O-tay!" he replied. Then he lifted his little legs out in front of him in his car seat and grabbed on to his toes, giggling wildly.

Blaine smiled at the action. In that moment, he was reminded of just how much he loved his son. Of how much joy the little boy brought him every day. And then the crushing sense of guilt came back over him, and he couldn't believe he'd ever been less than completely honest about him.

"You ready to go home?" he asked, still trying to suppress the vision of the almost-tears trying to escape from Kurt's guarded stare. "I know I am."

"Les-go, Dada!" Ollie exclaimed, still smiling hugely.

"Okay, Bud." Blaine buckled his seatbelt and put the car in gear.

The whole way back to the Anderson house, Blaine's mind was spinning in the events of the day. The replay of everything just seemed inescapable: How wonderful Kurt had been. How brave he was about the terrible things he had gone through. How honest and trusting and just _great _he was. How he made Blaine feel free to be himself and allowed to want what he wanted in life; he made him feel like he hadn't felt in years.

Blaine knew he would be the luckiest man in the world if Kurt ever deigned to speak to him again. He wanted so badly to call him and try to apologize some more, but he knew that Kurt needed time. He just really, really hoped he hadn't ruined everything. Only time would tell.


End file.
